


The Key to Success is to Plan for Failure

by Garowyn



Category: Gintama
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Comedy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25121530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garowyn/pseuds/Garowyn
Summary: Katsura orchestrates an elaborate plan to capture Matsudaira and Kondou. But things pan out differently, and soon others are unwittingly drawn into the chaos simply by being in the right place at the wrong time. Or the wrong place at the right time. Either way, it may end up being that no one will be in the right place at the right time.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 60





	1. Monday: Brilliance and Madness Can Be Interchangeable

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama or any references to celebrities (there will be altered names) or pop culture things, etc. 
> 
> This fic was originally an experimental story told in reverse chronological order, as inspired by a Seinfeld episode. But then I decided to save that for another comedy fic of mine in the works where it would work better, so this fic reverted back to original order of events. This fic will also not be as heavily detailed as previous works of mine. I’m focusing mainly on the moment without worrying about everything else in the scene. 
> 
> Setting is pre-Shogun Assassination arc a.k.a the Point of No Return. Additional character tags will be added after they make their first appearance, so expect majority of the cast to turn up. Timestamps are relevant to the story and not indicative of real life. 
> 
> Big thank-you to Ace for their support, as always!

**9:33:06 PM**

Evening found Katsura Kotarou inside his small, sparsely furnished apartment, sitting at the table and devising a new plan for fully dismantling the current government and reinstating a better one as he saw fit. Keeping a low profile for the last month and a half had allowed him and his men time to rest and regroup, as well as delude the Shinsengumi into thinking they had successfully extinguished the flame of rebellion. But the Jouishishi were far from extinguishment, and they always would be as long as Katsura was leading them. And now he had come up with a brilliant idea that would enable the Jouishishi to subjugate the Shinsengumi and take the next step toward revolution. 

“I have a brilliant idea, Elizabeth!” Katsura declared, looking up from this month's faction budget report. 

Elizabeth, seated across the table from him, whipped up a sign: _I know. The narrator said so._

“It’s not Narrator, it’s Katsura.”

_Whatever. What is your brilliant idea and is it better than the last one?_

“Humph. How was I to know that napping was going to be part of the battle and that they would cleverly use it against me? If I had known, I would have adequately prepared for such a devious tactic.”

_Napping wasn’t your downfall. It was lack of common sense._

Katsura frowned. “Let us not dwell on the past, Elizabeth. This time I have a sure-fire plan that will end with the capture of both Matsudaira Katakuriko and Kondou Isao. And it will not cost us as much in wigs and costumes like before.”

Without waiting for her answer, he launched into a hushed explanation about the information he had obtained from reconnaissance: Oguri Shunnosuke, popular movie star, was going to have an early birthday party ahead of his real one in December because he would be filming his next movie at that time. The festivities would be taking place in the main ballroom of the Silver Palace Hotel and Conference Centre, which was the fanciest and most upscale of all the downtown hotels. 

Matsudaira Kuriko would be one of the guests, and the Shinsengumi were going to be guarding her at the personal request of the police-commissioner himself, who would also be attending. In anticipation of this event, Katsura had procured a job as a waiter in the previous week to collect more information in hopes of using this lavish event to his advantage. Tomorrow he would obtain blueprints of the hotel and determine the best ways for members of his faction to enter the hotel undetected on the day of the party.

Elizabeth held up another sign: _This is a celebrity event. Will your plan involve violence?_

“Of course not! I am offended you would even ask when you know I try not to harm civilians,” Katsura answered, “Our goal is to capture their leaders with minimal conflict. As for Matsudaira-dono’s daughter, I will think of a way to ensure she herself is not harmed.” After spending time working at the Matusdaira household, Katsura had no intention of endangering the girl. He would have to find someone to act as a bodyguard and escort Kuriko to safety when the hour of action was close at hand.

_What about the Shinsengumi?_

“Not to worry, for I have thought of a way to distract and isolate them. I will order pizza ahead of time as a thank-you for the Shinsengumi’s hard work, but it will be filled with laxatives instead.” He knew one person in the pizza delivery business who usually arrived on time and whose employer offered large group discounts; he also knew one other person who could deftly add laxatives without the first person ever knowing since they were on the same level of stealth. “While most of them are in the washrooms – which we will flood beforehand – we will take out the remaining soldiers, and capture Matsudaira-dono and Kondou-dono.” 

_Using pizza instead of curry this time?_

“If you are referring to the time when I sabotaged curry dishes meant for the Shinobi Five, then you are correct.”

Silence from Elizabeth.

“What do you think of my brilliant plan?”

Elizabeth stared at him for a long time.

Katsura held her unblinking gaze until his eyeballs threatened to dry out. 

Finally, she held up another sign: _I don’t think this is going to work. It sounds too simple and ridiculous, like a cheaply written plot._

“Nonsense! I have thought everything through and considered all obstacles and planned for possible failures—of which, I can assure you, will not be allowed to happen.” Katsura crossed his arms and smiled. “It is a seamless plan. What could possibly go wrong?”


	2. Tuesday: Be Careful When Making Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama or any pop culture references.

**8:16:44 AM**

“Men, we have an extremely important mission ahead of us this week,” Kondou said, stern gaze sweeping over the captains ordered in two lines parallel to one another in the meeting hall. “It’s going to require a lot of patience and mettle. You must be of sound mind and body to undertake this mission. Our reputation and ability to defend the people of Edo depends on the success of this operation.” 

The men murmured among themselves, casting questioning glances at one another, a few of them shrugging in response. 

“I didn’t hear about this,” Hijikata remarked from the side, puffing on a cigarette.

“I just received word from Pops early this morning,” Kondou explained, “The mission is scheduled for this Saturday. We are going to escort Pops and a few politicians to the birthday celebration of Oguri Shunnosuke. There are going to be quite a few celebrities, as you can imagine, so don’t get star-struck and slack off on your duties.” 

“Wait, does this mean I can meet Aragaki Yuri??” Todo asked, “Is she going to be there, too?”

Harada bopped him on the head with a fist. “Get serious! Kondou-san just said we have to be on guard, not fool around and slobber all over ourselves like lovesick idiots.” 

“My sentiments exactly,” Hijikata said, nodding. 

“There are more important matters to worry about.” Harada reached within his coat and whipped out a small navy booklet with golden trim. “And what could be more important than getting Ueto Ayaka’s autograph? I’ve been trying to get it for years!” Immediately after he spoke, several of the captains broke out in frenzied discussion over which actor or musician they wanted to meet. 

Hijikata slapped a hand to his forehead. 

“Settle down, men!” Kondou barked out with a frown, “We’re going to be patrolling in and out of the hotel, not waiting around to hear Takeuchi Mariko sing ‘Camouflage.’” 

“Uh, you’re the one who needs to settle down first!” a few of the men chorused.

“Oh, I almost forgot one more detail.” Kondou grinned. “Kuriko-chan will be accompanying Pops to the party, so I want everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no belching, no swearing, and no running around naked!”

“You’re the only one who does that last thing, Kondou-san,” Okita said, his head drooped forward with his sleeping mask covering his eyes.

“Oi, what did I tell you I’d do if I caught you sleeping again during meetings?” Hijikata said, scowling at the younger man.

Okita straightened up and pushed one end of his mask up over his eye. “Resign as Vice-Chief and hand the reins over to me?”

“No, you lazy, insolent—”

“Now, now, Toushi, Sougo,” Kondou cut in, “We have too busy a day today to spend it squabbling. Sougo, take your squad down to Shinjuku. The rest of you, see to your assigned duties and schedules. Dismissed!”

“This operation is doomed to fail with the men easily dazzled by rich and vapid lifestyles,” Hijikata remarked sullenly, watching the captains file out of the room, still discussing who they hoped to see or meet at the celebration. 

“Not to worry, Toushi.” Kondou patted his old friend on the shoulder. “I’m sure the whole operation is going to go off without a hitch.”

* * *

**9:45:17 AM**

Hasegawa fumbled with the coins he’d gathered from underneath five vending machines, slipping one into the pay phone coin deposit slot and dropping two in the process. “Damn it, come on!” He bent down to retrieve the coins, pushed them into the slot, and then hastily dialed Hatsu’s number. 

When she answered after three rings, Hasegawa broke into a grin. “Hatsu! I found a new job! Yes…yes! It’s true! I’m going to deliver for a bakery. What’s that? Of course I still have my license! It’s right here—” He stopped to reach inside his pocket when he remembered that he’d sold his drivers’ license to off to a random guy off the streets, someone who needed a piece of false identification. Half the money had gone to food; the other half to pachinko. “Uh, heh heh…it’s right here, right where I always leave it! Right within my pocket where I can always find it when I need it! I wouldn’t dare think of selling it.” 

He paused, swallowing hard, hoping Hatsu wouldn’t be able to sense the lie. He hated lying to her, but he also didn’t want to put a damper on good news with a problem that was easily rectified once he had enough money to renew his license. “What’s that? Ah, no, no, don’t worry!” Hasegawa picked up an expired, wrinkled coupon for two free meals that someone had left on top of the pay phone. “I’m looking at my license as we speak! I’m wearing my old department uniform – ah, I miss that uniform – and it’s got my birth date and it says I’m eligible for fifty percent off—no, no, I’m eligible for license renewal two years from now!” 

To his relief, Hatsu questioned him no further and encouraged him to do his best. Growing misty-eyed, Hasegawa nodded, as if she could see him, and said, “I’m going to do my very best, Hatsu! I’ll contact you again when I’m a success!”

He hung up and stepped out of the phone booth into the warm morning sunlight. For the first time in so long, Hasegawa breathed in the fresh air with a happy and hopeful heart. He surveyed the people walking the streets, believing that he would one day count himself among the employed again. As long as stray meteors and zombies and the Yorozuya didn’t interfere, there would be no problem in maintaining this job for awhile until better opportunities presented themselves. 

Removing his sunglasses to wipe at his eyes, Hasegawa said, “Wait for me, Hatsu! My big break is coming…!” For a guy who had so many things go wrong in his life, he believed it had to balance out and result in something right for once. 

* * *

**10:15:25 AM**

Kyuubei’s stomach growled on cue when two plates of stacked pancakes topped with whipped cream and strawberries and syrup on the side was placed on the table they shared with the leader of the Hyakka. Kyuubei thanked the waitress and smiled at Tsukuyo. “So you’ve never had pancakes before?”

Tsukuyo shook her head, staring at the meal before her. “I rarely let myself indulge in sweet things.”

“Well, this is a first for me, too. Tae-chan and I were supposed to go for breakfast here once, but something came up at the time.” Kyuubei picked up a fork and knife and delicately cut through the fluffy cakes. “It’s too bad she can’t join us today, but we can all come back together another time. Let’s eat.”

“Thank you, Kyuubei.” 

Kyuubei paused to watch Tsukuyo take her first bite of pancake and smiled when the woman’s eyes widened. “Delicious, isn’t it?”

Tsukuyo nodded, a smile slowly spreading across her lips. “Very delicious.”

“Oh, before I forget—” Kyuubei set down their cutlery and reached inside their coat, retrieving an invitation with the name of the Yagyuu clan outlined in golden script and setting it on the table, sliding it forward for Tsukuyo see. “I’ve been invited to the birthday celebration of a family friend, Oguri Shunnosuke. I’m permitted to bring a couple of guests with me. Would you like to come with Tae-chan and I?”

Tsukuyo’s chewing slowed, as she regarded the invitation and details of the party. After swallowing, she asked, “This celebration…is there going to be a lot of people?”

“I would assume so. They say he is a popular actor,” Kyuubei replied, not knowledgeable about the celebrity world and Oguri’s status within it. Apparently, his recent accomplishments merited the use of the finest hotel ballroom in Edo. “Is there a problem?”

“I’ve never been to many events aboveground,” Tsukuyo answered.

Kyuubei nodded, needing no further words. They fully understood Tsukuyo’s misgivings over attending high profile events in a world that still deemed Yoshiwara and its residents as inferior despite the change in leadership. “I have an idea. We’ll spend half an hour there, and then we’ll go some place else for the evening. Oguri-san came to my birthday celebration, so I’d like to return the favour, but after that, he’ll be too busy greeting all of his guests to notice our absence. Does that sound better?”

“Forgive me, I don’t mean to be a hindrance. I’m grateful for the invitation, so I’ll do my best to get along with everyone.”

“You needn’t apologize, and you are never a hindrance, Tsukuyo-dono.” 

“By the way, that man in the corner there entered the shop five minutes after we did, and he’s been filming you ever since.” 

Kyuubei glanced behind them, pinpointed the man in question, and then turned back to Tsukuyo. “What are you talking about? All I see is trash sitting outside the trash receptacle.” Too delighted by the prospect of spending the morning with their new friend, Tsukuyo, Kyuubei had forgotten all about her obsequious shadow that had been with them since leaving the Yagyuu compound. “Somebody must’ve forgotten to throw their trash away properly.” 

Tsukuyo blinked once at the sight, and then nodded. “Ah, I see.” She stood up, pushed her chair back, and walked over to the corner where the trash and recycling bins were located. “I’ll fix that. Women of Yoshiwara know exactly how to deal with trash.”

“Make sure not to let the trash mix with the recyclables,” Kyuubei said, “Trash like that can’t be recycled into something better. It’s best to throw it away completely.” They took another bite of their pancakes and chewed contentedly to the protests and yells – something about obtaining daily life footage of the ‘young master’ for the Yagyuu Clan documentary – of Toujou getting stuffed into the trash bin by the Courtesan of Death. “This is very delicious, indeed. Tae-chan will love these pancakes.”

* * *

**12:53:46 PM**

Katsura was many things, but he was not an idiot without a second plan to get out of his first plan in case things went wrong. Sometimes there was even a third plan. Regardless of any change in circumstances, Katsura would always have an additional card up his sleeve in case it all went wrong.

“Listen closely, Elizabeth,” Katsura said while they were on the run from the Shinsengumi, “The trick to becoming a master strategist is to be able to switch tactics at any given time. No matter what, survival should be your number one priority, so that you can live to destroy the government another day.” 

_I understand_ , Elizabeth had signed, watching as Katsura lifted a manhole cover and dropped within the inky darkness.

“Sometimes you have to…change tactics…to ensure…your survival,” Katsura puffed, as he climbed down the ladder rungs, voice bouncing off the slimy walls. “Sometimes this means…running – my word, this bunker has a terrible stench.” He dropped to the bottom where dim lighting revealed a narrow walkway spreading out endlessly in two directions. “Do they not routinely clean their facilities?” 

_We’re not in a bunker_ , said Elizabeth, landing beside him. _Watch your step_.

Katsura’s foot hovered in open air above a rush of foul contents. “This assault on our olfactory organs is one of the many examples I could give you of a situation in which adapting to a swift development in one’s present circumstances is necessary. Our previous tactic was escaping the government dogs. Now our new tactic is to navigate this unforeseen and unpleasant-smelling cavernous bunker in search of an exit.”

 _I told you we’re not in a bunker_ , said Elizabeth, following him down the pathway through several twists and turns.

“While it may seem like we are drifting away from our initial plan…”

 _If we’re not careful, we might really drift away_ , said Elizabeth, grabbing hold of Katsura’s kimono when he moved too close to the right. 

“…we are always moving toward our ultimate goal, which is the destruction of the rotten government and the establishment of a system more in line with our ideals.” Katsura stopped and turned around to face Elizabeth. “As patriots, our lives are intertwined with our goals. Therefore, every move we make, every tactic we switch to – it all benefits our overall strategy. Running away and hiding from the Shinsengumi keeps us alive. Finding our way out of this enormous bunker—”

Elizabeth’s eyes flashed red, bathing the vicinity in her glow. _Stop calling this place a bunker_.

“Thank you for lighting our discovery, Elizabeth.” Katsura pointed to new ladder that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, leading to another manhole above. “As I was saying, finding our way out solves our previous problem and aids our master plan. We have successfully eluded the Shinsengumi, and when we surface, we will be able to enter the next step in our plan. So, the final lesson – no, there are two lessons: one is to always keep your facilities well-lit and scrubbed clean, and two is that everything is nearly always a means to an end in the life of a patriot. There are no wasted moments.”

And so, Elizabeth clung to these lessons and the knowledge that Katsura knew what he was doing, as skeptical as she was, given the past results of his eccentric and sometimes convoluted plans. But, somehow, through improvisation, cleverness, and sheer luck alone, Katsura never failed to emerge victorious, even from prison. She would believe in him this time around, too.

Today’s tactic was to divert the Shinsengumi’s attention away from downtown Edo and the place of Oguri Shunnosuke’s celebration. They would deceive the Shinsengumi into thinking Katsura’s faction had risen up again, far from where most of them would actually be. With Elizabeth leading, they would appear in multiple places around the city, leaving behind a trail of meaningless clues and leading the Shinsengumi away on a fruitless hunt for Katsura while he infiltrated the Silver Palace Hotel. If it resulted in the Shinsengumi’s diminished presence at the hotel, then all the better for the Jouishishi.

Once they reached the top and conveniently emerged into a shadowy alley, Elizabeth grabbed a change of clothes and a wig from inside her mouth. She handed Katsura his waiter’s uniform and fitted a wig of long black hair onto her head. Once outfitted in Katsura’s normal daywear, she whipped out a fresh sign, saying _Good luck_.

“The same to you, my friend,” Katsura said with a smile, tying his hair back.

_You may want to shower quick before you show up to work._

Whether he did or not, she would find out later, for now she was leading a group of their men into an abandoned warehouse north long the Sumida River to plant and set off small firecrackers that would surely cause a scene worthy of the Shinsengumi’s attention. It also helped that they’d spotted a Shinsengumi patrol close by with perfect timing. 

“It’s Katsura!” one of the officers shouted, and all the men drew their swords, the sound mingling with a clamour of battle cries, as they charged Elizabeth and her squad. “Today is the day we arrest you, Terrorist!” 

Elizabeth lifted a sign: _It’s not Terrorist, it’s Elizabeth._ She put it down, scratched out ‘Elizabeth’ and wrote ‘Katsura’ instead, and then dashed away, detonator in hand.

* * *

**1:44:52 PM**

“Why should he get top billing when I’m the real star?” Gintoki grumbled, staring at his photo on a flyer with the Shinpachi and Kagura’s photos and their contact information. “I’m more handsome than he is. My name should come first.”

“Need your roof fixed? Need a delivery made? Need your cat’s teeth brushed?” Shinpachi cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Just call the Yorozuya! We’ll do any odd job as long as you pay us!”

“He’s playing me, after all…how come my royalty cheques are so small? Are they all going to that second-hand lookalike? I bet they are and they’re making him rich while poor me has to scrape by with egg on rice.”

“We’ll even break up with your boyfriend for you, yes!” Kagura thrust a flyer into the face of a passerby carrying bags of anime idol merchandise. “Or find you a date if you’re a cherry boy!”

“How did you know?!” the man cried before bursting into tears and hurrying away.

“Kagura-chan, don’t be rude!” Shinpachi called out after the fleeing fanboy, “Please forgive her! We’re sorry! I’m sure you’re able to get a date just as you are!”

“Hits too close to home, yes?” Kagura picked her nose and wiped her finger clean on a flyer before passing it out to another. “Cherry boys can detect other cherry boys.”

“Don’t call me that! Even if it’s true!”

Gintoki yelled toward the sky, “Why is no one listening to me, damn it?!”

“Stop breaking the fourth wall when you only exist in the two-dimensional world!” Shinpachi sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Gin-san, can you please concentrate on advertising? We need to make enough to cover the costs of these flyers and pay the bills and put food on the table.”

The flyer crumpled in Gintoki’s hand. “Who cares about bills when damn Oguri Shunnosuke thinks he can just waltz in and steal my likeness... _he_ should be paying _my_ bills instead.”

“It’s not Oguri Shunnosuke, it’s Katsura.”

Gintoki looked up to see his old war buddy standing in front of him, arms crossed and dressed in a waiter’s black and white uniform with his long hair tied behind him like a horse’s tail. “You’re not tall and charismatic enough to be him _or_ me. What do you want?” Gintoki plugged his nose and used a flyer to fan the air in front of him. “And step back about fifty feet from me because you smell like a toilet after someone’s had expired strawberry milk.”

“That is awfully specific.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Nowhere. I have simply been strolling about, minding my own business.” Katsura cocked his head to the side when a loud explosion sounded in the distance. “Actually, I am running late for my new job, so I had best be on my way.”

“What did you do this time?” Gintoki asked, not really caring, because the answer was always the same. He shielded his free hand against the sun, spying the rising smoke in the distance.

“Nothing, I told you. I was simply strolling about, minding my own business—”

“All right, all right, cut the crap and haul your ass out of here. You’re disturbing my business and turning away potential customers.”

“If your business is going sour, it is never too late to join us, Gintoki.”

“My business is not going sour. It may smell a little ripe – like _you_ – but it isn’t soured out completely yet.” Gintoki smacked a flyer against Katsura’s chest and held it there, leveling with Katsura’s gaze. “Look, Zura, just give me a call if you know of a job. I’m desperate for money, so I’ll do anything.”

Katsura took the flyer from him. “Anything?”

“Anything. Hell, I’ll even clip an old man’s fungus-infested toenails if he pays me well.”

“Interesting…” Katsura looked at him. “I may have a job for you soon.”

The rational part of Gintoki that was usually shoved aside for the part that wanted to laze around and read comics told him that he should be wary of the gleam in Katsura’s gaze, but the prospect of getting paid was too strong a relief. “I’ll hold you to that, Zura.”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura—”

“Whatever. Beat it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on the scene with Tsukuyo and Kyuubei: I realize this was something alluded to in Silver Soul arc and, realistically, shouldn't be in a fic set pre-Shogun Assassination, but I kept it in because why not. Don't mind it.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around for chapter two.


	3. Wednesday & Thursday: Cameos and Composure Are Like Comets: They Can Be Gone in an Instant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama or any pop culture references.
> 
> Chapter three is early (I've had most of this fic completed for almost two years, and this chapter has already been done for a long time). Thanks for sticking around. A few other characters will still be making their first appearances in case you're wondering where they are. After this, the chapters will be longer, as we make our way to Friday and Saturday's events.

**WEDNESDAY**

**5:00:30 PM**

“I wonder why Kintoki hasn’t invited me to his party yet?” Sakamoto wondered aloud, while standing at the helm of his ship on the main bridge, gazing at the main viewscreen’s display of the open ocean in shades of gold and red with the setting sun. They were to ascend into space within a few days, but he was willing to postpone operations in case he received an invitation to Saturday’s celebration.

“It’s not his party, but Oguri Shunnosuke’s party,” a man replied out of thin air. “However, Oguri-san does play Gintoki in a movie, so it’s an understandable error.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know that, ahahaha, hahaha!” Sakamoto paused, and then turned to the man standing beside him. “By the way, who are you?”

“You probably don’t remember me, but I used to fight alongside you in the war,” the man answered with a black rectangular box over his eyes. “Recently, you invited me into space for a week.”

“I did?” Sakamoto lowered his sunglasses, peering at the black-haired man and his dark teal clothing. “Ah, I recognize you! You’re…Kuroko Tetsuya!”

“Close, but not quite.”

“No, no – I meant to say Akutagawa Ryuuonosuke! Ahahaha! It’s been a long time. How have you been? Are you still writing books?”

“Sorry, but that isn’t my name.”

“Wait, wait, I got it now.” Sakamoto grinned. “It’s Tanaka-kun! I’m right this time, aren’t I?”

The man shook his head with a wistful smile.

“Slaine Troyard—” Sakamoto yelped, as he dodged a bullet that lodged itself into the control panel, sparks spraying outward.

Entering the bridge, Mutsu lowered her gun and regarded him with a stony expression. “Stop naming characters from other series just because they have the same voice actor as your old comrade. This could go on forever.”

“She’s right,” the man said, “We’ll run into legal troubles.”

“There’s a disclaimer at the beginning of this story, so it’ll be fine, hahaha!” Sakamoto squinted at the man, and then the name came back to him. “Kurokono Tasuke!” The black box vanished, replaced with a vaguely familiar and familiarly vague face. “Now I remember! Ahahaha, hahaha! It’s been a long time since the reunion with Kintoki and Zura. Are you still playing basketball?”

“Captain!” one of the bridge members called out, “Our time is running out!”

Sakamoto frowned. “Time’s running out? Why? What for?”

“The scene! We only qualify as filler!”

“Filler? We’re just filler?” Sakamoto shook his head with a frown. “No, no…that can’t be right!”

“It’s true,” Mutsu said, “This is all the screen time we get, and we’re wasting it on an idiot.”

“But I barely have any screen time in the series!” Sakamoto cried, “And now I get even less in this story? What kind of cheap entertainment is this?!”

Kurokono smiled. “Well, we’re only here to make up for the fact that there is no real Wednesday chapter.”

* * *

**THURSDAY**

**11:15:05 AM**

On his way to Kondou’s quarters, Hijikata barely nodded at his fellow officers, his mind too consumed by thoughts of the mission ahead and how getting out of it was vital to his survival.

Every member of the Shinsengumi and the regular police force and all the specialized units within the city knew not to flirt with or show the slightest romantic interest in Matsudaira Kuriko if they wanted to continue living without a bullet embedded in their brains. One could greet her, engage in a conversation, and tell her where to retreat for safety, but showing anything beyond simple courtesy could result in a personal visit from her father and his favourite countdown game—that is, if Kuriko herself didn’t intervene and demand her father show some respect for her chosen suitors. 

But if Kuriko already felt rebuffed and humiliated – even if the object of her affections had done everything in his power to let her down gently – then that would incur greater wrath from Matsudaira Katakuriko, who would surely punish those that did not return her love. “Think you’re not good enough for my daughter?” Matsudaira would probably snarl with a loaded gun pointed at the unfortunate fool, “Think she won’t bring you happiness? Think you’ll find a better kind of happiness from a warm gun?” Damned if you loved her, damned if you didn’t; there was no in between. 

Kuriko didn’t know his identity, but if she saw his face, then the grand deception was all over. He had hated lying to her in the first place with such a nonsensical plan, but desperate times had called for outrageously desperate measures born from the questionable wisdom of the Yorozuya trio. Of course, Hijikata considered telling Kuriko the truth, but that was a risky act in and of itself if she didn’t believe him or else took his rejection too personally – in which case, he’d quickly find himself staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.

No, all he had to do was calmly outline the sensible reasons for why he should stay back. Kondou was bound to understand, and then Hijikata could count his neck saved from Matsudaira and Kuriko ever finding out about his grandiose lie; that he was, in fact, _not_ the Prince of Planet Mayonnaise. 

“The damn Yorozuya,” he muttered under his breath before entering Kondou’s quarters.

* * *

**11:23:44 AM**

Pulling his head away from pressing an ear to the door, Okita decided that he was not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Without bothering to announce his presence, he slid the door open and addressed Kondou, “If he’s not going, then I’m not going, either.” 

Glaring at him, seated on the floor across from Kondou, Hijikata demanded, “Who invited you here? You’re supposed to be scrubbing the urinals.”

“I was, but I broke your toothbrush trying to scrub the filthiest corner, so I had to stop.” Ignoring the darkening aura around Hijikata, Okita looked at Kondou. “They don’t need us all there when the hotel has its own security, plus the regular police force.”

“Sougo, this is a personal request from Pops involving the safety of his one and only daughter,” Kondou reminded him with a stern eye from his cross-legged position. “You know I can’t turn down that kind of request.”

“Oh, well, in that case, why are you tolerating such shameful behaviour from Hijikata-san? He’s basically saying he’s not a team player, and we don’t need that kind of detrimental attitude in the Shinsengumi.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t just trying to get out of it yourself!” Hijikata snapped before facing Kondou again. “As revolting as it is to say this, I have to agree with Sougo. Personal request or not, this isn’t the Shogun’s birthday and we’re not party favours. There will be tight security all around, and if everyone knows the Shinsengumi are going to be there, then that’s leaving other parts of the city vulnerable to enemies.” Hijikata drew in a deep breath before saying, “With all due respect, please allow me to withdraw from the mission.”

Okita lingered by the doorway, watching the mental battle of wills play out between the two leaders. While Hijikata always deferred to Kondou’s final authority on an issue, he never hesitated to share a realistic viewpoint. Likewise, Kondou sought counsel from a man he trusted wholeheartedly, but also confronted Hijikata’s pragmatism when benevolence mattered more. But Okita secretly hoped that Hijikata would emerge the victor here in this round. Spending an evening looking after a boring old man and his boring daughter alongside celebrities with their obsequious entourages in tow was not Okita’s idea of an invigorating assignment—even if there was free food involved. 

“I hear you loud and clear,” Kondou finally replied with a sigh, “but I’m afraid I can’t grant your request. With the safety of a man’s daughter at stake, I need the very best of us on the front lines, and that includes you, Toushi.” He offered a sympathetic smile when Hijikata pressed his lips together in a tight line. “Pops is also thinking of how hard we work. He’s giving us the chance to blow off some steam and enjoy ourselves!”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Besides, you did well in protecting Kuriko-chan last time, so I don’t see why you can’t do the same here.”

At this, Hijikata visibly stiffened. Kondou didn’t appear to notice, as he continued rambling about the importance of safeguarding the police-commissioner’s daughter. But Okita had not missed the reaction, and he decided to more closely observe Hijikata. 

“With your tactical skills and bodyguard expertise,” Kondou said, “we’re sure to succeed. Kuriko-chan will be happy to see us again! It’s been awhile since we last saw her—”

“An asteroid could hit and destroy Edo!”

Kondou’s brow crinkled. “Eh?” 

Even Okita raised his eyebrows at Hijikata’s sudden outburst.

“And then we would need to evacuate everyone,” Hijikata continued, “The Shinsengumi need to be on standby in the event of a catastrophe!” 

Kondou stifled a laugh. “Toushi, the odds of that happening on the very night of the celebration are low…”

“O-Or aliens could land and start a planet-wide invasion!” Hijikata’s eyes were wild and round as classic extraterrestrial saucers.

“Uh, aliens have already landed and invaded, or didn’t you notice that gigantic space terminal in the center of the city?”

“Well, who’s to say more won’t arrive and we can’t repel their forces because we’re stuck at a ridiculous birthday party of all things?” Hijikata’s voice was steadily rising, and the addition of a nervous chuckle only enhanced his peculiar behaviour. “Worse yet, Katsura could crash the party and endanger everyone! We should concentrate our full efforts on finding and arresting him instead of playing bodyguard!” 

“Katsura could easily show up at the party, but that would be silly. He doesn’t have time to waste on parties when he has more serious goals in mind.”

Hijikata hung his head low and groaned. “That’s exactly what I was trying to say earlier about us!”

“Besides, Katsura’s been sighted far north of the Terminal, and our units are moving in to capture him within the next couple of days.” Kondou shook his head. “Sorry, Toushi, but I’ve given my orders, and no asteroid or alien invasion or Katsura can change my mind. This discussion is closed.”

With a heavy sigh of compliance, Hijikata nodded and rose to his feet. 

As if jolted out of a bizarre dream only to find it was real, Okita shook his head, incredulous. “Wow, Hijikata-san…is an asteroid really coming? Did you notify JAXA yet? Should we build an underground asteroid shelter right away?” 

“Shut up,” Hijikata growled, “Get back to work or commit seppuku. And wipe that stupid smirk off your face.”

“I’m not smirking,” Okita replied while smirking.

Hijikata threw him one last hostile look before leaving the room. 

Unfazed, Okita simply shrugged to himself. One way or another, he was going to find out why Hijikata was vehemently against participating in this operation. Chances were that it would benefit Okita in some way and he always sought to profit off Hijikata’s misery and humiliation. 

* * *

**2:24:17 PM**

“Sa-san.”

“I told you it’s just ‘Sa-chan.’ You got nmaibo in your ears or something?”

“It’s not Something, it’s Katsura.”

“Whatever. What do you want?”

“Is that any way to treat customers?” 

“Hurry up and place your order.” Sarutobi blew a loose strand of hair out of her face, dressed in the café’s red ninja outfit and yellow scarf. “Gin-san goes back home in—I mean, I go on break in fifteen minutes and I don’t have all day to wait for you.”

Seated within a corner booth, Katsura picked up the menu and scanned the variety of treats and coffee drinks available in the kunoichi-themed café. “You know, Sa-dono—” He paused to wipe trickling blood from a kunai wound in his forehead. “Ah, the special effects of this café are very lifelike. I feel as though I have truly been injured in an attack. Anyway, I have come today with a job request for you.”

“Order something first – then we’ll talk.”

“Fine, I will have the Icha Icha Paradise Coffee, Black, please.” 

Sarutobi’s indifference vanished, as she turned in the direction of the kitchen and called out with a wink, “One Icha Icha Paradise Coffee Black, tehehe!!” 

“And maybe I will also have the Goemon mochi—”

“Sorry, we’re all out.” Sarutobi plopped down in the seat across from him, adjusting her glasses. “All right, what’s the job and how much? It better be worth my time.”

“Oh, it will be,” Katsura replied seriously, “I can assure you of that.”

“So talk.”

Katsura glanced around first to ensure no active eavesdroppers were in the vicinity. Then, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I need you to play bodyguard for a young lady this Saturday night, no questions asked.”

“Who’s the girl?”

“I said, ‘No questions asked.’”

“Idiot – how I am supposed to know who to guard?”

Katsura reached inside his kimono and fished out a photograph of Kuriko, taken during a shopping excursion with her friends. He slid it across the table. “Her. She will be attending Oguri Shunnosuke’s birthday celebration that evening.”

“The old pervert’s daughter,” Sarutobi remarked, lifting the photograph with two fingers and scrutinizing it carefully. “Why would she need me to guard her when her father has those government dogs at his command?” 

“I cannot answer that. Just keep her safe during the commotion that is sure to rise from a lively night of dancing and drinking.” 

“Planning to get those dogs riled up, huh?” Sarutobi shrugged a shoulder and slipped the photograph back to him. “Well, I don’t care about your ongoing feud with them. It sounds like an easy job, but I don’t take just any old job. What’s in it for me?”

“I will pay you with something far greater than money. I can get you a date with…” Katsura paused for dramatic effect. “Gintoki.”

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him in silence for several seconds. “How is that possible?”

“I cannot tell you how or when, but I will be making him an offer he cannot refuse.” Katsura mentally calculated how much he had in his savings and how much would turn Gintoki’s head and convince him to take the kunoichi out on a legitimate date. “So, what say you? Do we have a deal?”

“You’re sure he’ll agree to it?”

Katsura thought back to his last conversation with Gintoki and his level of desperation for money at any cost. “Absolutely.”

Sarutobi’s hands flew to the sides of her blushing face, as she squirmed in her seat. “A real date with Gin-saaaaan!! Oh, I’d better pick out what I’m going to wear! Maybe the black leather one piece with the whip?! No, no – the red tube top with the removable padlocks and handcuffs!!” 

“So you will take the job, then?”

All the hearts and flowers that had been dancing around her vanished when she sobered up and spoke in a threatening tone, “Yes, so long as you keep your promise and get me that date with Gin-san or _you’ll_ need a bodyguard for the rest of your life.”

Katsura nodded. “Of course, I will get back to you as soon as I know the date and time. You have my sincere gratitude, Sa-kun.”

“Go die.”


	4. Friday: A Great Warrior is Mindful of All Surroundings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Gintama or any of the pop culture references. Also, I mean no disrespect to any actors I unintentionally roasted in this chapter; it’s all in good fun.

**5:01:05 AM**

In the predawn light that stretched itself thin over the rooftops, Katsura faced Elizabeth from across the table and said, “Let our debriefing commence. There is much to discuss and much more work to do in preparation for tomorrow night.” 

A bleary-eyed Elizabeth – which didn’t look all that different from wide awake Elizabeth, but there were the smallest differences made perceptible by a keen eye – whipped up a sign: _Do you know what time it is?_

“Indeed, I know what time it is,” Katsura said with a nod, his voice rising, “It is time for the dawning of a NEW ERA—” 

One of their neighbours banged a fist twice against the wall, loosening a wall scrolling of a painted pine tree. _“Shut up!”_

Moving to pick up the dislodged scrolling and return it to its rightful place, Katsura cleared his throat and said, “Elizabeth, we must remember to keep our voices down while discussing important covert operations. We cannot afford another eviction.”

_You’re the one who needs to keep his voice down._

“To answer your question – yes, I am aware of the hour in which you speak of, and yes, it is quite early.” Katsura sat back down and folded his arms together. “But a warrior’s day begins with the rising of the sun and the unveiling of new opportunities to lead an uprising against this current reprehensible government. Thus, it is never too early – or too late, for that matter – for revolution. We are always awakening and readying ourselves at the precise time in which we need to be awakening and readying ourselves. Sleep is only a brief pause in the tireless life of a patriot.” 

_Then why do you have eyes painted on your closed eyelids?_

“I am merely conserving optical power for enhanced future use. It is imperative that our vision remains focused and clear on our goals, andzzzzz…”

Elizabeth whacked his head with her sign.

Snorting into full consciousness, Katsura’s eyes snapped open and he quickly said, “It’s not Sleeping, it’s Katsura.”

_I didn’t say anything yet. You didn’t give me enough time to play straight man._

“Ha! You may think that I was sleeping, but the truth is that I was dropping a hint about the first order of business.” Katsura wiped the bit of drool from the corner of his mouth and failed to suppress a yawn, which he attempted to mask with another short laugh. “Ha! I meant to say ‘zzzz’ for that signifies a cunning foe that we must yet be wary of, ha!”

_Just yawn normally._

“I am speaking of Saitou Shimaru, of course. In our mission to capture Kondou Isao, there are natural obstacles like Hijikata Toushirou and Okita Sougo, but they can be dealt with.” Katsura straightened up and lowered his voice. “No, this is an opponent whose silence speaks volumes. He presents a danger unlike any other. We must be cautious in venturing forward, Elizabeth, just as Mario was when he encountered troopas and realized that defeating them once was not enough, for they still posed a threat as shells on their own.” Gazing out the window, Katsura said in a solemn voice, “Even now, Saitou-dono may be hunting us, waiting for us to slip up and reveal our plans…”

* * *

**5:08:22 AM**

Saitou snored softly at his writing desk, the candle’s flame dancing with each slow inhale and exhale. Beneath his snoozing head was a partially finished journal entry from the previous night:

_Log date-z: 08.20.18XX_

_Captain Okita has requested my assistance for a task that’s strictly off the record, as he says-z. It’s a task that has taken up a good portion of my time, but I don’t mind-z. I’m happy to help out my friends when they need me even if I can’t say much in return-z. I am recording my findings here for reference, in case I overlook something during my search-z._

_I’ve been asked to observe Vice-Chief in an attempt to find out why he wishes to withdraw from Saturday night’s mission, Operation Guardian-z. Captain Okita says he is concerned about Vice-Chief’s well-being and only wishes to help him-z. I’m to take notice of any indication that he is physically unfit or emotionally compromised to take on the mission at hand-z. Aside from his smoking habit and overconsumption of mayonnaise, Vice-Chief appears to be in robust condition-z. He never misses his daily training or patrols-z. Sasaki-kun has also reported nothing out of the ordinary-z._

_Regarding his emotional state, he continues to appear unenthused about the upcoming mission-z. In fact, he stays quiet for the duration of our discussions on the mission, and seems lost in thought-z. I see now why Captain Okita is concerned-z. But there is something I have noticed-z. For the most part, Vice-Chief is like a pillar of stone during the meeting until Matsudaira Kuriko-san’s name is mentioned, and then one of his eyes twitches-z. Sometimes a vein twitches and sometimes he mutters ‘mayonnaise,’ but I’m not sure how they’re connected-z._

_I’ve made note of this to Captain Okita, and he said to continue monitoring Vice-Chief until the mission commences-z. Sometimes I’m not sure if what I’m doing is important or even necessary, but Captain Okita says it’s all important and it’s all necessary for the operation to run as smoothly as diarrhea-z._

_We’re fortunate to have Captain Okita always looking out for the health and welfare of Vice-Chief-z. I will do my best to report anything new or strange in order to ensure the success of this mission-z._

Suddenly, he sneezed, popping a mucus bubble clinging to the edges of his nostril as well extinguishing the dying candle. He sat up, running a hand through his thick hair, yawning beneath his scarf. After a moment spent recalling where he was and what he had been doing, he picked up his brush, dipped its tip in the last of his ink, and began a new entry:

_Log date: 08.21.18XX_

_I sneezed early this morning-z. I think someone may be talking about me or it could be the pollen-z._

* * *

**7:56:43 AM**

“Guess where I’m going tomorrow night, Shin-chan?” Tae said over breakfast at the table. 

Shinpachi poked once at his omelette with his chopsticks. “Uh, where?”

“To Oguri Shunnosuke-san’s birthday celebration!”

Shinpachi looked up, eyes widened with surprise. “Really? How did you—” He yelped when dark purple smoke broke free of the omelette and flew toward his face, spreading a purplish veneer across his lenses. 

“Kyu-chan invited Tsukuyo-san and I as guests. We’re going to get to meet him, too! I’m so excited! I’m a big fan of his dramas,” Tae answered, pausing to sip from her miso soup. “I’m going out today to buy a new kimono for the party and to print some business cards for the dojo. There will be many people there, so I’m sure there are plenty of parents with children looking to learn swordsmanship in the new era.”

Shinpachi removed his glasses and fished out an Otsuu-themed cleaning cloth from an inner pocket. “It sounds like fun—what the hell??” The residual coating hissed and emitted potentially dangerous vapour, as it steadily devoured the cloth. “Your Dark Matter has evolved! It’s consuming everything in its path! It’s turning into a national emergency all by itself!” 

“I’m sure we’re all going to have a fun evening,” Tae went on, as if she hadn’t heard him, “Kyu-chan said Tsukuyo-san is a little nervous about going to such a high-profile event, so later we’re going to leave and continue our evening elsewhere. I was thinking about karaoke—I would so love to hear them sing! Perhaps Sarutobi-san can join us, too. For myself, I want to sing ‘Lady Navigation’ by B’Z or maybe ‘S.O.S.’ by Pink Lady…it’s hard to decide, although I know I’ll knock them both out of the park.”

Shinpachi exited the room and ran for the pond. He rinsed his glasses, and then disposed of the charred remains of his cleaning cloth before they could cause more damage. By the time he returned to the engawa, Tae was still talking about tomorrow’s party. “Ane-ue!!” Shinpachi clumsily put his spectacles back in place, and stood there, scowling at his sister. “Did you not notice the dangerous situation I was caught up in just now?”

“Oh, I noticed all right,” Tae answered with a smile. She set her chopsticks down and then plunged her fist through the floorboards, fingers unfurling to grab a hold of and pull the intruder up by his hair. “I noticed that someone had planted this rotten radish mistakenly beneath our home instead of in their garden.”

“Good morning, Otae-san, you look as lovely as ever!” the Chief of the Shinsengumi greeted her with a bright and nervous smile. There was nothing like the fresh scent of fear in the morning to start the day off well.

“You sound like you’re still sleepy, Kondou-san,” Tae replied, still smiling, “Why don’t you go back to sleep – forever?” With a great roar, she hurled Kondou toward the outside and knocked Shinpachi down like a bowling pin. The two men crashed onto the dirt and rolled away into the bushes, all the while yelling and scrambling to untangle themselves from each other.

Tae sat back down at the table and said to herself, “Now, then, what kind of pattern should I go for…perhaps peonies?”

* * *

**10:30:50 AM**

Inside the head office of Heaven’s Bakery, Hasegawa sat in a plush chair, fidgeting with his fingers, as he listened to the general manager go over the details of Oguri Shunnosuke’s grand birthday celebration.

“We’re counting on you for this job,” the manager said, “You’ve done well in handling all the smaller deliveries this week, so think of this as your final test before we take you on full-time.”

Hasegawa’s brain frantically backtracked over the driving directions, trying to remember if there was a shorter route to the hotel. “Yes, sir, I appreciate it! I won’t let you down!”

“Oh, and one more thing – we’ll be making several other deliveries that night, so you’ll have to handle this one by yourself. That includes not only the delivery but also the set-up. You will have to personally bring the entire order inside.”

“All right…” _What the hell? If this is such a popular bakery, then why can’t you hire extra help for such an important event??_

“Ten trays of smaller desserts, including daifuku, castella, uiro, chocolate and matcha Swiss rolls. It took them many hours to prepare all of those.”

“I see…” _What is he saying? Why is it important for me to know how long it took?_

“Five large cakes, each meticulously decorated with rosettes that took the bakers long hours to get right.” 

“Right…” _Again with the hours! Are you trying to tell me something?_

“And the five-tier cake – the biggest and the heaviest and the grandest. That one must be carefully transported. You can imagine how many hours it took to bake that one. Many laborious hours.”

_He keeps focusing on the hours! It doesn’t even sound like a word anymore!_

“One mistake, one imbalance, one sudden movement, and it will topple over faster than you can say ‘fired.’”

Hasegawa gulped. 

The manager burst out laughing. “I’m kidding! I’m certain you will do a fine job and make us proud,” he said, with darkly gleaming eyes.

_He’s not kidding! He’s really going to fire me if I so much as breathe on the cakes!_

Hasegawa forced a chuckle and answered, “I’ll do my best!” He tried not outwardly wince during their continued conversation, as he thought about how much he would have to pay the Yorozuya to help him out. He knew he shouldn’t enlist their aid; it went against all his natural instincts and what he knew to be right and wise and true. But no other choice presented itself.

* * *

**6:12:18 PM**

“Tetsu!” Kondou waved his hand high in the air. “Come join me!”

Tetsunosuke smiled, holding his lunch tray. “Certainly, Chief!” It was always an honour to dine with Kondou, as great an honour as it was to sit with Hijikata in the mess hall. Tetsunosuke navigated around his comrades until he reached Kondou’s table where one last empty chair awaited. “How are you this evening?” Tetsunosuke asked, as he sat down across from Kondou, who sported bandages and bruises on his face along with a prominent bump on the top of his head. “Good, I hope…?” 

“I’m doing just swell, Tetsu!” 

“Yes, you do look swollen— _swell_ , I mean! You look swell and splendid with your battle wounds, Chief!”

Kondou spooned a mouthful of rice and curry mixture into his mouth. “In fact, I’m better than swell. Do you want to know why?” Without waiting for a reply, Kondou continued, “Tomorrow is Oguri Shunnosuke’s birthday celebration.”

“Oh, yes! Vice-Chief wants me to peruse the guest list tonight to prepare for tomorrow’s mission,” Tetsunosuke said, “He says to be on the lookout for any suspiciously fabricated names, or names with puns, names of deceased historical figures, names of popular anime characters – anything that might point to Katsura Kotarou’s involvement at the event—”

Kondou shook his head, and swallowed before he said, “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I know Toushi is concerned, but the chances of Katsura gaining access into a high-profile event like this are slim.”

“Well, according to the records, Katsura _has_ infiltrated Matsudaira-san’s household before…”

“That’s true, he did.”

“And he worked as a member of the Shinsengumi for almost two weeks before he was found out…”

“Aside from the damage to HQ, it was a rather amusing incident!”

“And he’s known to have confronted, befriended, and generally reached the Shogun from time to time while bypassing all guards…”

“It does happen on occasion.”

Tetsunosuke stared at Kondou, puzzled by the man’s reactions. “Uh, so then surely you can understand Vice-Chief’s concerns about Katsura breaking into the Silver Hotel and disguising himself as one of the guests… It’s no secret that Matsudaira-san himself will be there because of his daughter, and then you yourself will also be there along with a sizeable number of Shinsengumi…” Tetsunosuke waited for Kondou to say something, but he stayed smiling, as if Tetsunosuke was simply commenting on the party preparations and excitement. “There’s a strong possibility that Katsura will try something with several politicians also attending…sir?”

“I’m well aware of all that, Tetsu,” Kondou finally said, chuckling, “Toushi gave me an earful about it already. The one thing you’re both overlooking is that it’s a birthday party for a celebrity who doesn’t have any influence whatsoever on the government. There will be three times the security aside from us Shinsengumi. All hotel employees have received background checks, and all guests will go through a security clearance before entering the hotel.” Kondou took another bite, and added between chews, “I highly doubt Katsura is going to waste his time with a celebrity’s birthday. If it were me, I wouldn’t dwell on it for a minute more. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about!”

If there was one thing Tetsunosuke had learned from his time with the Shinsengumi, it was that Hijikata usually had good reason to worry even if no one else did. But Tetsunosuke sensed that this conversation would go nowhere if he pressed the matter further. “Very well, sir. I’ll do my best to focus on the task Vice-Chief has given me and think of nothing else!”

“Good! Now, I want to share with you why I’m looking forward to tomorrow. But I’ll need you keep it a secret from Toushi because he’ll stop me if he knows…” Kondou held a hand to his mouth, shielding his whispered words from view. “I’m going to be dressed exactly as Oguri-san!”

Tetsunosuke smiled uncertainly. “Oh…why?” was the most logical question and reaction that passed his lips for an odd revelation. 

“Because Otae-san is going to meet him.” Kondou grinned. “I overheard her this morning, talking about how big a fan she is of Oguri-san, so I figured if I wear what he wears and act like he acts, she might find that I can be her own personal Oguri-san!”

Tetsunosuke’s spoon froze halfway to his mouth, the curry sliding off and taking grains of rice with it. “…Sir?”

“Of course, I’m not really going to be him, but since he’s such a popular and suave actor, I figure I can learn a couple of things from mimicking the way he conducts himself,” Kondou continued, “Oh, but don’t think I’ll neglect my duties that night by abandoning Kuriko-chan for Otae-san. You don’t need to worry about that!”

“Uh, that’s not what I’m worried about…”

“After all, Kuriko-chan is like a little sister to me, so I’m going to my best along with everyone else to ensure she’s well-protected that night. But now that I know Otae-san will be there, I want to take some time to mingle with her, too. And who knows – I might earn her favour by introducing her to Oguri-san since he’s a close and personal friend of mine. You remember our meeting with him yesterday?”

Tetsunosuke scoured his brain for a memory. “Not really – did that happen in the Wednesday chapter that was usurped by filler material?”

Kondou nodded, swallowing another mouthful before continuing, “He said, ‘I’m glad to work with you for the safety and security of my birthday celebration, Kondou Isami-san.’” At this, Kondou chuckled. “I’m sure he meant to say ‘Isao.’ It’s a common mistake.”

Tetsunosuke’s mouth moved wordlessly, unable to scrap together even a simple reply to Kondou’s ramblings that were rapidly growing more bizarre by the second. 

“I bet I can get his autograph for Otae-san! Anyway, it shouldn’t be too difficult to emulate him. Maybe I’ll even style my hair like him, too. We resemble each other a lot, don’t you think? Two long lost handsome brothers! Like peas in a pod.”

Tetsunosuke had seen a photograph of Oguri Shunnosuke and disagreed about resemblances, but he wasn’t going to be the one to burst Kondou’s bubble. There was only one thing he felt obligated to point out. “But Vice-Chief will find out when he sees you’re not wearing your uniform…and when you’re introducing Oguri-san as your close and personal friend to Shimura-san…”

Kondou waved a hand in dismissal of Tetsunosuke’s concerns. “Toushi is going to be too busy overseeing the guard to worry about me. But if he does find out, I’ll deal with that when it happens. So don’t tell him! If he knew I was going all out to make time with Otae-san instead of solely focusing on my duty, he’ll lecture me for sure! Especially after I told him to uphold _his_ duty by overseeing the operation.” Kondou’s eyes took on a faraway gleam, as he smiled. “But, in some cases, love is more important than duty! Ah, I can see it now… Laughing with Otae-san…feeding each other sweets…dancing under the chandelier…!”

All Tetsunosuke could envision was Shimura Tae punching the living daylights out of Kondou under the chandelier while sampling the sweet desserts with an even sweeter smile. 

* * *

**6:47:39 PM**

Infiltrating the hotel with fellow Jouishishi in menial positions had been simple enough because the hotel was constantly busy, and the management didn’t seem to notice the sudden influx of waiters and custodians and maintenance staff. But it was shaping up to be a challenge for Elizabeth, who could not fit into the black and white waiter uniform Katsura wore. None of the multiple sizes he had stored away for other Joui members had worked, either. While Katsura held full confidence in her disguises, it would be difficult with the Shinsengumi present, especially under the sharp gazes of men like Hijikata, Okita, and Saitou. Katsura needed to tread carefully at this venue, and he had finally thought of a solution.

The hotel staff setting up tables and decorations in the main ballroom ahead of Saturday’s celebration. Katsura was supposed to be helping, but after ensuring no one would miss him holding the ladder for the man placing the banner above the main entranceway, he stole away into the administrative department and entered the manager’s empty office.

Sifting through the piles of paperwork on the desk, Katsura found the invoice for a local bakery that would be baking several small cakes and desserts and one grand cake for the party. Locating their phone number, he called them up, gave the file reference number, and was put through to the staff member in charge of the event. Glancing at the door, sparing a moment to listen for the manager’s return and to sense eavesdroppers, Katsura then explained that he was calling on behalf of the manager to request an addition to the cake order.

“An artificial cake? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am reading directly from the agenda at the request of the manager of the Silver Hotel,” Katsura insisted while holding no such thing in his hand, “They want an exact replica of the cake to preserve at the hotel as a conversation piece.” Outside the office and down the hallway, he heard a clamour of panicked voices and a curious _thunk_ sound followed by a splash. “I understand it is going to be a beautifully designed cake, and the organizers feel it would be a shame to see your bakery’s efforts go to waste once they start slicing the cake.”

“Well, I suppose we can do that—”

“Also, I see that there is a note here from the manager himself to make sure the artificial cake is hollow inside with a hatch on the underside.”

“A hatch? Uh, all right, but what do you need that for—”

“Good. Thank you for your hard work.” Elizabeth could squeeze into the artificial cake and be smuggled inside the hotel. It was the perfect plan. “We look forward to viewing the real and artificial cakes in their entirety.”

“Hey, wait!”

But Katsura did not, as he hung up the phone and hastened out of the office upon hearing footsteps storming down the hallway. He busied himself with adjusting the notices on the staff bulletin board, and then looked to see one of managers approaching with a frown. 

“Did you hear the commotion in the ballroom?” the manager demanded.

“Yes, I did. What happened?”

“The person who was supposed to be holding the ladder for Arakawa left and the ladder toppled over!”

Katsura crossed his arms, shaking his head. “The nerve of that person, disgracefully abandoning his duty.” 

“It’s _you_ , you idiot!! Arakawa’s lucky he fell in the fish tank instead of on the floor.” The manager gave an exasperated sigh and then fixed a glare on Katsura. “Anyway, what are you doing back here? Get back out there and finish decorating!” 

* * *

**7:13:21 PM**

Yamazaki waited five minutes more before crawling once more through the air ducts, sullying his spy garb with dust and spider webs. What he had just overheard in the office below had stunned him. “I need to tell Vice-Chief right away,” he murmured, careful not to make a sound. Katsura was clever; he might return down this hallway to make another strategic phone call or to catch eavesdroppers in the act. But Katsura was also an idiot, who hadn’t thought to thoroughly check the office for the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Either way, Yamazaki could win or lose, and he preferred to be cautious. Besides, Katsura’s accomplice, Elizabeth, could also be lurking somewhere. 

After clearing the ducts and holing himself up inside a dark and musty storage closet in the basement level, Yamazaki fumbled for his cell phone and called Hijikata through a special anonymous number couldn’t be traced to a specific location. 

Hijikata’s terse voice picked up after the first ring. “What is it?”

“You were right,” Yamazaki whispered, “Katsura is planning something.”

“I knew it! What is he planning?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but he’s working here as a waiter. I just heard him on a phone call.” Yamazaki quickly talked about the change in order and the odd request. 

“That’s undeniably suspicious,” Hijikata remarked when Yamazaki had finished explaining.

“Should I apprehend him now or wait for back-up?”

“No, stay there in the hotel until Saturday night. We need to catch him in the act.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to arrest him now since we’ve been trying to arrest him for several seasons?”

“Shut up, I’m making the plans here.” Hijikata sounded unusually excited and agitated at once. “Catching him in the act will prove I was right all along. Every single person has been doubting my instincts, and now irrefutable proof will be in my very hands that night.” 

Yamazaki could’ve sworn he heard Hijikata cackle, which by itself was a disturbing thought alone. “Uh, Vice-Chief, are you okay—”

“I can’t let this chance slip away from me. You have no idea how frustrating it is to have your opinions ignored and not taken seriously.”

“Well, actually, I do have a good idea of how that feels—”

“Keep tabs on him,” Hijikata ordered, “Disguise yourself as a custodian or another waiter. Report any new developments directly to me.”

“Yes—”

The line went dead.

Yamazaki sighed, and then decided that he had better go pick up more anpan from the convenience store before commencing his undercover mission.

* * *

**9:32:45 PM**

“It was only a matter of time before Oguri-kun realized who was truly responsible for his success,” Gintoki began with a smug expression before taking a swig from his mug of beer. “That the only reason his movies made bank at the box office was because of Gin-san. That his TV dramas earning the highest ratings was only because viewers tuned in each week to catch a glimpse of Gin-san’s good looks—”

“We’re _just_ helping Hasegawa-san deliver a cake,” Shinpachi cut in, glancing up once from the paperwork Hasegawa had given them, detailing instructions and travel directions. “We won’t be allowed to stay.”

Catherine burst out laughing and pointing her finger at Gintoki. “Nyahahaha! You really thought Shunnosuke-sama would invite a lazy bastard like you to his birthday party?”

“Shunnosuke-sama? Did you say Shunnosuke-sama?” Gintoki leaned toward Kagura, who was sitting on the next bar stool. Lowering his voice and raising a hand to shield his whisperings from Catherine, Gintoki said, “Oi, oi…did that cat-eared freak really say ‘Shunnosuke-sama’ like some lovesick gun-wielding, pig-tailed woman named ****ko?” 

* * *

**9:33:07 PM**

Matako sneezed in the middle of oiling the barrel of her disassembled gun, spread out on the table in front of her. 

Across from her, Bansai looked up from tuning his shamisen. 

“Somebody’s badmouthing me somewhere,” Matako said, scowling, “That, or they called me a damn dirty name again – and I know just who it is!”

* * *

**9:33:12 PM**

With a smug grin, Kagura whispered back, “Yes, yes, she did, she did say ‘Shunnosuke-sama’ like some groupie with day-old underwear named ****ko-chan.”

* * *

**9:33:17 PM**

Matako sneezed again. “Damn it!” she snapped, “How many times are we going to do a sneezing gag in this chapter?!” She turned to Bansai. “By the way, how come you weren’t invited to that big, fancy celebrity party? Isn’t that girl you write songs for going, too? I bet they wouldn’t forget to invite the biggest reason for her success.”

“I received a hand-delivered invitation last month, but regrettably could not attend since it interferes with the Kiheitai’s schedule,” Bansai answered, plucking out a chord on his shamisen. 

“How is that possible when no one has ever seen your producer side in person?”

Bansai was quiet for a moment. Then, he looked at Matako and slid one of his headphones back, revealing the sound of Luna Sea’s latest progressive rock track. “Ah, did you say something, Matako?”

“You heard me clearly before! Why are you pretending you didn’t hear me now? Are you trying to ignore the fact that you forgot an important element of your character and are too embarrassed to admit it??”

“I think our filler scene is about to end,” Bansai said, sliding the headphone back into place and returning to his shamisen. “It was a fine scene while it lasted. Punk mixed with a slight pop sound, I daresay.”

“Answer the question!”

* * *

**9:37:44 PM**

“Shut up, you bastards!” Catherine clenched her fists together. “If it wasn’t for me begging Otose-san to give you another chance to pay your rent on time, you’d all be out on the streets!

“You’ve got it all wrong – you were begging her to throw us out on the streets,” Gintoki corrected her, “And, anyhow, I don’t see why someone would want an old hag like you at his birthday party. Guests are supposed to be entertained, not terrified – except on Halloween.”

“I’m not an old hag! Otose-san’s the old hag here—”

Otose effortlessly bopped Catherine on her head with a well-timed fist. “Don’t go around insulting the one who saved you from living on the streets to begin with.” 

“I think the party should’ve been for Hagimoto Kanna-chan,” Kagura remarked, leaning up on an elbow against the countertop, pinky finger cleaning out one nostril. “Guri-san doesn’t have the cuteness or the charm of a proper heroine, uh-huh. Kanna-chan’s way more popular with this generation. She’s played almost as many anime to live action roles as Yamazaki Kenta. That’s proof right there, yes?”

“It’s not Hagimoto-chan’s birthday, and furthermore, you’re just saying that because she plays you in a live action film,” Shinpachi remarked.

“You’re just jealous that any old pair of glasses can play you in the movie, uh-huh.”

“I’m not jealous! I’m honoured to be played by a popular actor such as Suda Masato-san!” Shinpachi frowned. “Anyway, we should stop breaking the fourth wall and naming real celebrities and dramas, even if we scramble their names, or else we’ll get hit with a lawsuit.”

“At least get me an autograph!” Catherine cut in, “I’ve been a fan ever since Great Teacher Onitsuka!” 

“I said to stop naming real celebrities and dramas! Doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

“You get me an autograph,” Catherine continued to Gintoki, “and I’ll cover your rent next month. I promise!”

Tama, who was walking by with a tray of snacks, suddenly spoke up and said, “My sensors have picked up an acceleration in heart rate and an increase in sweat production. It appears Catherine-san is not being truthful.”

“Tamaaaa!!”

“I knew it was too good to be true coming from you,” Gintoki said, clicking his tongue. “Don’t make such promises lightly. Didn’t you read the title of chapter two? What’s the point of relaying lessons in titles if you don’t read them? A title is the first important element of a story and a chapter.”

“Get back to work!” Otose barked to Catherine.

Catherine grabbed a tray of newly prepared drinks and scowled at Gintoki. “Fine, then! If you won’t get me an autograph, then I’ll just have to go to the party myself and get one!”

“Sorry, there are no pets allowed at the hotel,” Gintoki replied, picking his nose. “And even if there were, someone’s bound to be allergic to you, so they wouldn’t let you in, anyway. But we’ll be sure to tell him you said ‘Meow.’”

“You’ll see, you bastard!” Catherine cried, shaking her first at the laughing duo and one apologetic straight man, “I’ll be at the party, dancing with Shunnosuke-sama! And when he kicks you out, I’m gonna laugh in your damn faces!”

* * *

**10:07:22 PM**

In the darkness of his quarters, Okita lay in his futon and stared at the faint outline of the ceiling, hands folded on his chest but fingers busily tapping against each other. 

Like a mother, Kondou had shuffled him off to bed early like a child, because everyone ought to be well-rested for tomorrow’s evening operation. But Okita’s mind was abuzz with Saitou’s report on Hijikata’s strange reactions to Matsudaira Kuriko’s name. Mumbling mayonnaise to himself could be easily explained away as a symptom of an incurable addiction to a condiment. Why wouldn’t someone like Hijikata feel the need to invoke the name of the mayonnaise spirits throughout the day as a devout worshipper? Throwing Kuriko into the mix didn't make any sense, but Okita didn’t doubt the veracity of Saitou’s report. The silent third unit captain was more attentive to the world than most, few things escaping his sharp gaze.

With that in mind, Okita concluded that Kuriko was a large part of the reason Hijikata had wanted to withdraw from the mission. It couldn’t be anything sentimental due to her age and her overprotective father. Hijikata hadn’t expressed any romantic interest in another since Mitsuba, but if he ever did, Okita doubted it would be for someone like Kuriko. They had nothing in common except for whatever caused Hijikata to negatively react to her name and lose his composure in trying to get out of going to the party. If they encountered one another in person, then that meant something Hijikata was trying to keep a secret would be out in the open and at the mercy of Matsudaira’s jumpy finger on the trigger should that something upset Kuriko.

Something that smelled sweetly of blackmail.

Okita smiled.

He climbed out of bed and went off in search of the one who could best help him.

Saitou had left his door open again, but at least the night was warm. Stepping inside while murmuring an apology for the intrusion, Okita walked over to Saitou’s hunched form at his writing desk, snoring away with his hand slowly inking ‘Zzzzzz’ on a fresh page in his notebook.

“Shimaru-niisan,” Okita said, moving to sit on the other side of the desk, “Shimaru-niisan, wake up.”

Snorting awake, Saitou lifted his head and stared at Okita with bleary red eyes.

“Sorry to wake you, but this is important,” Okita said, “This is not an order from Kondou-san, but another request from myself for the security and success of tomorrow night’s mission.”

Saitou sat up straighter and quickly wrote something down in his notebook: _Has Katsura been sighted-z?_

Okita blinked in response. He had forgotten all about that overzealous patriot with his mind mostly focused on humiliating Hijikata somehow. “No, but we won’t forget to consider him as a potential threat on any day. This is about Hijikata.”

_Is something wrong with Vice Chief-z?_

“There might be if we don’t keep a close eye on him during the party.” Okita put on his best concerned expression, widening his eyes and crinkling his brow ever so slightly. “He’s going to be without mayonnaise for several hours and might have a relapse. I want you to watch him carefully for any signs of a breakdown, any odd things he might say, any suspicious actions he might take. You’re going to monitor the party from inside the ceiling, right?” Saitou wouldn’t last the night at a party where socializing was expected and encouraged, but that was all right. Saitou was the lucky one, permitted to observe and guard from a distance for greater threats.

_Yes-z._

“If Hijikata fails to keep himself in check, then that makes us all vulnerable to our enemies.” That was true enough. If Hijikata was already troubled about the mission, then it was up to the Captain of the First Unit to clear away all obstacles interfering with the Vice-Chief’s ability to assist the Chief and lead the Shinsengumi. And if that meant exposing secrets to the light for the safety of Matsudaira Kuriko, then so be it.

_I understand-z._

“Good.” Okita smiled. “I knew I could count on you, Shimaru-niisan.”

 _Thank you for trusting in me-z._ Saitou pulled his scarf down and revealed that terrifying, bloodshot vicious smile, but to Okita, it was a smile most normal, most friendly, and most endearing. 

“Let’s make this a mission no one will forget and make Akechi Kogoro proud,” Okita said, standing up, “Oh, and keep an eye out for Katsura, too. I wouldn’t put it past him to try something tomorrow night.” 

* * *

**10:43:19 PM**

Tsukuyo slowly made her way up to Hinowa’s room. Seita had gone to bed an hour ago, and Hinowa would retire soon after they had a chat first before Tsukuyo started her nightly patrolling. 

“What’s on your mind tonight?” Hinowa asked when Tsukuyo entered the room. The older woman was sitting upright in her futon, combing out her long hair, which was free of its usual ornaments and ornate styling. No matter which way she presented herself, Hinowa was beautiful and graceful, and would surely have no problem fitting in with a high-profile crowd at a social gathering. 

Tsukuyo sat down next to the bed, tucking her knees underneath her body. “Forgive me for interrupting your evening. I’ve come here seeking your advice.”

“I see, and what may I advise you about?”

“Kyuubei invited me to a birthday party for a celebrity.”

“How wonderful! I’m delighted for you to have made new friends that invite you to other friends’ birthday parties.”

For a moment, Tsukuyo felt like the little girl she once was, as though she were Hinowa’s daughter, but it was not a bad feeling. “Yes, I’m glad to have been considered, but…” 

“You’re thinking of not going?”

Tsukuyo shook her head. “It’s not that, and it would be rude of me to not go after I said I would.”

“You feel you won’t fit in, is that it?”

As always and as sharp as ever, Hinowa got straight to the point. Sighing, Tsukuyo said, “Am I that transparent?”

“Yes,” Hinowa answered without missing a beat. She was smiling, however.

“I spend my nights guarding Yoshiwara.”

“It’s all right to have a night off. You deserve it. The Hyakka will be able to handle things without you for awhile.”

“I only know how to interrogate, not socialize.”

“You don’t have to talk to anyone if you don’t want to. And your friends will be there with you, won’t they? You can talk to them.”

“And I don’t have anything nice enough to wear for it.” 

“You can borrow from me or from one of the ladies. I know they’d be thrilled to help you dress for the event.” Hinowa reached out and enfolded of Tsukuyo’s hands into her own, warming them with her kindness. “Tsukuyo, I understand how you must be feeling, but I think it’ll be good for you to go aboveground and have a good time with your friends. Don’t think of yourself as confined to Yoshiwara. You are free to go wherever you want now. We all are.”

Tsukuyo considered this, knowing it had taken some time to shake off the loosened chains of Housen’s reign. She had lived her life in service to Yoshiwara for so long that it was still difficult to think of emerging aboveground and enjoying life there, too. 

“Go to the party,” Hinowa said gently, “Go and grace them with the beauty of the moon.”

Tsukuyo’s cheeks flushed red. “The moon only exists because of the sun…thank you, Hinowa.” 

As she left the room and headed for the rooftop to begin her work, Tsukuyo realized that she felt much better after speaking with Hinowa. Moreover, Kyuubei and Tae would be at her side, and they weren’t obligated to stay for the entire party, either. They’d go and they’d share in a fun night with each other. Everything would be okay as long as she didn’t drink a drop of alcohol. Tsukuyo smiled to herself, finally looking forward to tomorrow night.

What could go wrong at one celebrity party, anyway? 


	5. Saturday Part One: Always Expect the Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Gintama or any of the celebrities (with altered names) or video games or other pop culture things I reference in passing.
> 
> Sorry for the wait if you're still here (in which case, thanks for sticking around). This was the only chapter I hadn't had previously written out prior to posting.

**8:39:27 AM**

“Your only job tonight is to keep the reporters away,” Kyuubei said. Beads of sweat were forming on their brow, as they swung their practice sword into the next round of one hundred swings. “Keep them away and stay out of my sight.”

“Yes, yes, of course, young master!” Toujou wrote furiously on a clipboard. “Holding the reporters at bay will be simple enough, but they may have questions about your outfit for the evening. Should I respond on your behalf?”

Kyuubei’s practice sword froze in mid-air. “What outfit?”

Toujou set down his clipboard and whipped out from behind his back a black dress of black lace with silver buttons lining the front and leading into a full purple skirt with black ruffles and a large purple bow at the neckline. “I took the liberty of selecting this outfit myself to save you time! I also have a matching eyepatch accessory with a purple bejeweled heart—” 

Kyuubei swung their sword around at a new target.

Toujou screeched when the dress became a shower of shredded material. “Young Master! You didn’t even get a chance to try it on! You didn’t get a chance to try out the matching eyepatch accessory with a purple bejeweled heart—”

“I’ll wear no such thing,” Kyuubei replied, returning to their practice swings, “Not even the matching eyepatch accessory with a purple bejeweled heart—” They stopped again, frowning slightly, thinking about how they must be spending too much time addressing Jugem-Jugem by his full name that the repetition habit was creeping into every other aspect of their life. 

Sighing, Kyuubei lowered their sword and squared their shoulders. “I’m going to be wearing one of my formal kimonos to match with Tae-chan and Tsukuyo-dono, who will also be wearing kimonos.” There was a black one with many patterned camellias and leaves that would do just fine. Together, the three of them would be among those who chose more traditional garments in favour of modern dresses and tailored suits. Tae had also suggested they all wear florals pins to match their floral patterns, Tae in peonies and Tsukuyo in cherry blossoms. It would be a Diamond Perfume reunion for the public, Tae said, except for Sarutobi, who couldn’t join them directly due to a prior commitment. 

“‘Directly,’” Tae had said over the phone, “What do you suppose that means, Kyu-chan? Will she be _indirectly_ joining us? Will she be in an ambiguous state of attendee and attender? Oh, wouldn’t it be fun if we all were and we could sing the birthday song Diamond Perfume-style for Oguri-san?”

“It would be fun,” Kyuubei had agreed, though also puzzled over Sarutobi’s cryptic wording, “but maybe even more fun at karaoke instead if Sacchan-dono can join us in whatever direction and state she wishes to appear in.” They didn’t relish the idea of singing before a multitude of strangers, and suspected Tsukuyo would feel the same.

All in all, despite their reluctance in attending an event filled to the brim with celebrities and celebrity culture, Kyuubei looked forward to attending with their friends and then going out for the rest of the night. As long as they weren’t held up too long at the party, there would be plenty of time to relax afterward. 

Toujou flipped furiously through a catalogue before landing on a page and jabbing a finger at a new item. “Young Master! I have found another perfect adornment!” He slid across the floor into their personal space and set a hand on their shoulder. “How about wearing this matching eyepatch accessory in the shape of a flower with a gothic touch and bejewelled petals—”

Kyuubei disposed of Toujou with a swift backhand and noted that they would have to see about repairing the wall again, as Toujou’s screams grew distant across the sky.

* * *

  
**9:24:06 AM**

Otose was standing outside the shop and puffing on a cigarette when Shinpachi arrived. “Good morning!” he said, smiling, “I take it they aren’t awake yet?”

Snorting, Otose replied, “What do you think?”

Catherine walked out of the shop and into daylight, carrying a broom. Her ears flicked and twitched when she saw Shinpachi and her eyes widened. “Did you come here to beg for my forgiveness and invite me to the party?”

“Beg for forgiveness? I wasn’t participating in the teasing!” Shinpachi insisted and adjusted his glasses with a guilty expression. “I’m sorry, Catherine-san, but we’re only delivering the cakes and then leaving. That’s all Hasegawa-san is paying us to do. We won’t even get to see Oguri-san at all, not even a glimpse.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me!”

“That’s not it! Well, maybe a little bit. But, believe me, I wish we could stick around because Otsuu-chan is going to be there, too,” Shinpachi said, “She’s going to be leading the birthday song and then performing an acoustic version of her latest single. Oh, how I wish we could stay!” Sighing, Shinpachi spread his hands out in front of him. “But, it’s impossible. They’re only letting people with invitations or work orders inside, and we’re not exactly required to stay. In fact, Hasegawa-san is very insistent on us all leaving as soon as we’re done, though I can’t imagine why…” His face brightened. “Oh! Maybe Ane-ue can get you an autograph, Catherine-san? I’ll ask. She’s going with Kyuubei-san and Tsukuyo-san.”

“As long as you’re getting autographs, how about getting me one from Mifune Toshizou?” Otose asked, “I heard he’s going to be there as an honoured guest.” 

“Who’s that?”

“You kids today don’t know anything. Haven’t you ever seen Rashomon? Six Samurai?” Otose shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “He worked with one of the greatest directors in film history.”

“Yeah, don’t you know brats know anything?” Catherine snickered, “I know who he is, I should be going to that party instead of you—”

“You’re going to be working a late shift tonight,” Otose snapped at her, scowling, “So pipe down and start sweeping.”

Puzzled, Shinpachi looked at Otose. “Isn’t it Seven Samu—oh, never mind, we might get in trouble for that.”

Otose asked, blowing out smoke, “I’ll lower the rent by 300 yen if you do.”

“300 yen isn’t much!”

“Or I’ll raise it.”

“Mifune Toshizou, you said? Okay, we’ll get his and Oguri-san’s autograph for you two!” Shinpachi flashed her a grin, and then headed for the stairs. “I better wake them up and call Ane-ue right away to let her know!”

* * *

  
**9:28:19 AM**

After Shinpachi went upstairs and Otose went back inside the shop, Catherine spotted the piece of paper that had fallen from Shinpachi’s scampering form, floating downward to her waiting hand. Snatching it from the air, Catherine discovered it was a schedule from Heaven’s Bakery with detailed instructions for the cake deliveries tonight in the Main Ballroom at the Silver Palace Hotel and Conference Center. As her eyes greedily read through the schedule, she noticed one strange yet convenient request for an artificial cake in the image of all the rest, constructed as fast as humanly possible, complete with an underside hatch.

Catherine grinned. Heaven’s Bakery, indeed – the artificial cake was a blessing from above. It was almost too to be true, almost as if it had been thrown in to carry along a contrived plot concocted from the brain of a buffoon. She threw her head back and cackled high toward the heavens. 

“What are you laughing about?” Otose asked, returning outside with a bucket of water and a ladle in hand for tamping down dust in front of the shop’s entrance.

Catherine crumped the paper in her fist and gave another laugh. “I was just thinking about something Beat Takashi said last night on TV! Nyahaha!!” 

Shinpachi leaned over the railing and called out, “Do any of you see a schedule down there? I think I may have dropped it on the way!”

“I see nothing!” Catherine replied with a grin, ears twitching with excitement.

Tonight was going to be the best night of her year. She was certain of it. 

* * *

  
**12:33:21 PM**

Katsura arrived at the hotel hours ahead of his regular shift, wanting to ensure that his comrades had settled within their positions inside the hotel. 

“Why couldn’t I be a waiter?” asked one of his men, Bessho, who was wearing custodial garb. “Hirase gets to be a waiter, Aoba gets to be a doorman.”

“There are no inferior positions in the work we do for our cause,” Katsura said to him, “Everything we do pushes us closer toward our goals.”

“But I already have a regular job as a custodian! Can’t I have this chance to be somebody else for a change??”

Katsura thought for a moment, and then answered, “I will remember that for next time. Now, then, remember to squeeze out all excess water before you mop the main ballroom.” Leaving an unsatisfied Bessho to his work, Katsura made his way to the administration department, pausing briefly to say, “Thank you for your hard work,” to another custodian, who was munching on anpan.

Upon arriving, he quietly slipped into an empty office without any staff members noticing. For all they knew, he was meeting with one of the higher-ups about a kitchen matter. 

Picking up the phone and dialing the number for Pedoro’s Pizza Pies, Katsura tried out a number of voices to use. Even as a child, he had enjoyed opportunities to create his own characters and stories, and it was coming in handy as he jumped from one disguise to the next, fooling people into thinking he was a waiter, a dance performer, and a space captain. 

“Pedoro’s Pizza Pies,” answered a chirpy voice, “How may I help you?”

“Hello,” Katsura said, speaking sternly like that of the senior accountant, “I would like to place an order for nine Pedoro Pizza Pies to be delivered to the Silver Palace Hotel, Entrance A.”

“Certainly! What kind of toppings would you like?”

“We will take everything you have.” It didn’t matter, and the hotel’s accounting department would be footing the bill, anyway. 

“Excellent! Anything else?”

“No, that is all – ah, wait, there was one thing,” Katsura said, breaking character, “If I order a tenth pizza, will I receive the Catbus keychain as advertised? The one that is all fuzzy and warm?”

“Yes, of course! All fuzzy and warm!”

Katsura smiled. “Very well, then. Please add a tenth pizza to my order. I would also like to request your fastest deliveryman,” he added, knowing Zenzou would be tasked with order, because jumping across rooftops beat traffic like nothing else. He would be here just in time for the Shinsengumi’s first guard change, and all the men were sure to be famished by then. Katsura cleared his throat, returned to a deeper and stricter voice, and said, “I expect the pizzas to arrive precisely on time and not a minute later.”

“Yes, we will send our speediest deliverer! Thank you for ordering a Pedoro Pizza Pie!”

* * *

  
**1:11:11 PM**

Headquarters was abuzz with the men preparing for tonight’s mission. Hijikata hesitated to refer to the ‘mission’ as such when it was more like a fanatic convention with everyone discussing who they hoped to meet among the guests of musicians, actors, and artists of other types. They quieted down and returned to their tasks at hand whenever he passed by, but he heard them from a distance. 

There were also two peculiar things he had noticed: Kondou running errands at random times of the day and Sougo not insulting him for almost twenty-four hours now. Hijikata trusted that whatever Kondou was doing must be for the greater good of the mission, so Hijikata didn’t dwell on that so much. As for Sougo’s lack of interaction – even in the form of semi-serious attacks – Hiijikata was deeply unsettled, because nothing good could come of Sougo’s silence or the way he stared at Hijikata when he thought no one noticed. It most likely meant Sougo was plotting something that would result in a headache come morning, complete with an incident report and hospital bill. 

As if Hijikata hadn’t enough to worry about. Now he had to avoid Kuriko _and_ Sougo, as well as keep an eye out for Katsura and his faction throughout the evening. 

His cell phone beeped with a distinct ringtone, which indicated a call from their secret line.

“Vice-Chief?” crackled a voice among the light static, “It’s me.”

“Who?”

“Yamazaki! Isn’t that joke getting old??”

“Cut the crap. What do you have for me?”

“I overheard Katsura order ten pizzas from Pedoro’s Pizza Pies.”

“Pizza?” Hijikata frowned. “Why the hell would he order pizza when they’re serving a large buffet?”

“He also requested the Catbus keychain. I don’t know why, but it could be an important component in his plan.”

“‘Catbus keychain?’” Hijikata had been wanting one of those ever since he first cried in the theatre after watching the first My Neighbour Pedoro, but they were rare collector’s items. “Get that keychain from him. He probably means it for some nefarious purpose, so I’ll—I mean, _we’ll_ keep it as evidence.”

“Yes, Vice-Chief.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing right now. I’m working as a custodian. Katsura almost caught me, but I don’t think he recognized me. I guess being plain has its advantages,” Yamazaki said with a chuckle, “I’ll continue to shadow him.”

“Good work.” Hijikata couldn’t help his dark grin. “We’re finally going to capture him tonight, and this time there will be no escape.”

* * *

  
**3:00:03 PM**

Inside his personal quarters, Kondou applied extra hair gel and smoothed back his spiky hair until it resembled Oguri Shunnosuke’s most recently hairstyle. “Well, Sougo? What do you think? Do I look like Oguri-san? I had to shop all over the district for this brand of gel.”

Sougo stared at the top of Kondou’s head before replying, “I think you look a lot like Kiryuu Kazuma.”

“The Gorilla of Dojima?”

“Actually, I think it’s the Dragon of Dojima.”

Kondou grinned at his reflection in the mirror. “Kiryuu-kun is a pretty sharp-looking fellow, isn’t he? I’ll take that as a compliment!” 

“According to this magazine, these are the main traits of Oguri-san that I will do my best to emulate tonight,” Kondou said, flipping through a copy of one of those popular entertainment magazines until he found the interview with Oguri. 

“I think you should be more like yourself.”

“You’re starting to sound like Toushi—”

Sougo was unimpressed with his deadpan expression. “Please, Kondou-san – I’m still digesting lunch.”

“—he thinks I should just be myself,” Kondou continued, “which is true. You’re both right. But since this is a party where everyone is dressing up in their finest, it can’t hurt to loosen all my inhibitions and have fun not being Chief of the Shinsengumi.”

“Your inhibitions are always loose,” Sougo said, “You’re the most uninhibited person I know. Hijikata is the one who needs to loosen up. Though – you _do_ need to put some clothes on, Kondou-san. You can’t show up to a birthday party in your birthday suit.”

Kondou glanced down at his bare, freshly scrubbed skin. “The clothes were next on the list!”

“Where is he, by the way?” Sougo asked, “I last saw him at lunch, pouring that disgusting mayonnaise all over his meal.” 

“Toushi? I don’t know, last I heard he was going to do some last-minute paperwork,” Kondou replied, and then sighed. “He’s been working hard this week. I do hope he’ll take the time to relax tonight at the party, but I know he won’t. He’ll be putting his best foot forward for the mission.” Kondou caught a strand of hair standing at unwanted attention and smoothed it back down into submission. “To tell you the truth, I wonder if I was too hard on him.”

“You could’ve been tougher.”

“The two of you made good points, but we owe Pops a lot, and this is his daughter we’re talking about.” 

“I thought we were talking about Hijikata.”

“Toushi tagged along with us on the last two times we had to look out for Kuriko,” Kondou continued, “We three know her best compared to the rest. Besides, he was the only one who succeeded in deterring her wanted suitors – of which I’m sure there will be many at the party.” He chuckled. “Pops is so worried, but I think Kuriko-chan actually has a crush on Toushi, and you can’t find a better man than Toushi.”

“I strongly beg to differ,” Sougo said flatly with a dark edge to his tone. 

Kondou lacked all the details, but knew Mitsuba was a sore spot in Sougo and Toushi’s relationship, and both were still closed books to this day on what really happened between her and them on that last night. And Kondou wasn’t one for prying until they were comfortable confiding into him. “Even so,” Kondou said, throwing Sougo a placating smile, “considering her history with admirers, I don’t blame her for finding Toushi more attractive and charming.”

“I think I hear Shimaru-niisan calling for me,” Sougo said, walking backward toward the door, “I better go now before I vomit.”

“You can hear Shimaru?”

“Of course,” Sougo answered, “Can’t you?”

For as long as he had been with them, Shimaru rarely spoke, but it was true that Sougo was among those who’d been blessed with the opportunity to hear the man’s elusive voice. Kondou was actually glad for that, because Sougo had few friends and Shimaru could relate; they had a close bond and worked well together. Kondou smiled and said, “I can’t hear him right now, but perhaps I will later.”

Sougo stopped at the doorway. “Kondou-san? I was wondering…has Hijikata told you anything else about the mission?”

“No, he’s been fairly tight-lipped about it. Why?”

Sougo shook his head with a faint smile. “Oh, nothing. Nothing to worry about.”

* * *

  
**4:41:47 PM**

The walk to a café she and Kyuubei frequented on the regular was short and full of people who couldn’t stop gazing at their Deva, Tae, adoringly. She was decked out in a new pale lavender kimono with pink peonies in full bloom along with a peony-themed floral pin her hair, which she had done up in a full bun with her front and side bangs hanging loose. Complete with her favourite clasped pouch for small essentials, Tae knew she was a lovely sight for sore eyes, blessing the residents of Kabukichou, as she went along the streets.

“Don’t worry,” Tae said to a young man her age, who had reached the corner of a crossing at the same time she did, looking worried. “I’ll be sure to return and grace you with another glimpse of my inherent beauty.”

“Who cares about that? I’m just trying to cross the street here.” He stopped and squinted at her, and then burst out laughing. “That’s a lot of make-up! Are you so ugly you’re trying to hide it—” 

Ten seconds later, Tae resumed her stroll, massaging her knuckles and leaving the man groaning in pain on the crosswalk. She was confident in her appearance tonight, but she rarely applied full-on make-up, and began to wonder if maybe she had dabbed on a bit too much. Lost in her recollections of her make-up process earlier, Tae almost passed Tsukuyo, who called out to her.

“Ah, Tsukuyo-san!” Tae smiled and hurried back toward her tall friend. “How are you—oh, my!” Tae clasped her hands together, as she took in the sight of Tsukuyo’s sleek black kimono with cherry blossom petals. The older woman’s blonde hair was still done up in her usual fashion, but a little looser and more elegantly. “You look absolutely beautiful!”

Tsukuyo ducked her chin slightly, a reddish tinge crossing her cheeks. “Thank you, Otae.”

“I’ve never seen you like this before!” Tae stood beside her and watched the foot traffic in search of their own Saturday night entertainment. “Are you excited for the party? Is there any celebrity you’d like to meet? I’m sure Kyu-chan knows plenty of famous people.”

“To tell you the truth,” Tsukuyo said with a long exhale of smoke, holding her pipe out toward the street, “I don’t know the name of a single celebrity – except for this Oguri Shunnosuke now. Hinowa was the only one you could call a celebrity in Yoshiwara.”

“I can understand that. This will be my first time encountering celebrities. I wonder if Horikita Mami and Mizobata Junya will be there, too? They play Maeda and Sano, two detectives in my favourite current series, _Kendo Cop_ ,” Tae explained, “It’s a very popular drama, on its fifth season now! Have you seen it? Do you watch any dramas?”

“Not really, although I have watched an occasional episode with Hinowa and Seita.”

“We should watch one together,” Tae said, smiling as she took out her compact mirror to inspect her face. “Hmm, everything looks just fine. That idiot obviously didn’t know what he was talking about.”

“Idiot?”

“Some nitwit with an indiscriminate taste said I was wearing too much make-up and called me ‘ugly.’ He should feel blessed to have been in my presence alone.” 

“Flowers are never ugly except in the eye of an unworthy beholder,” Tsukuyo remarked.

Tae blushed and giggled. “Oh, Tsukuyo-san – you are such a charmer! And very poetic, I might add.”

Producing a kunai from within the folds of her kimono, Tsukuyo said, “If you want me to take care of him, I will.”

“No need! Not yet, anyway. Oh, here comes Kyu-chan!”

* * *

  
**5:20:12 PM**

As evening approached, so did customers, seeking refreshment and relaxation at their favourite bar in Kabukichou, as far as Otose was concerned. There was the constant din of orders for specially mixed drinks and platters of snacks for groups sitting in booths. Traditional music wafted on the air along with cigarette smoke. Normally, Otose could handle it all with Tama and Catherine, but tonight, there was only Tama.

Catherine had disappeared sometime after lunch.

As Otose poured sake for a customer at the counter, she called out to Tama, “Have you seen Catherine? She was supposed to be here hours ago!”

“I last heard Catherine-san speaking to herself about a cake,” Tama answered while she was serving a table their snacks, “I also heard her calculating the approximate amount of time it will take to reach downtown by bus.”

“Eh? Downtown?” Otose paused, thinking, not noticing the overflowing sake from the cup into the yelping customer’s lap. Then, it hit her. “She’s going to try and sneak into that party…I just know it! Damn her!”

Tama returned to the counter, empty tray in hand. “Would you like me to retrieve her?”

Otose hesitated. The orders were beginning to pile up, but they would continue to fall behind if they worked as two. Tama should be able to quickly locate Catherine before the night was out – an hour at tops. “She’s probably at that Silver Hotel or whatever fancy name it’s got. Go find her and tell her if she doesn’t drag her lazy butt back here, I’m going down to that party myself and I’ll _personally_ drag her back by her ears!”

“Understood, Otose-sama.” 

* * *

  
**5:37:48 PM**

The ballroom was fully decorated with the buffet tables rapidly filling up with delicious scents of spices and herbs and sweet sauces. Guests were slowly arriving, passing through security clearance points and checking their coats into the cloakroom. 

Holding a convenience store bag, Katsura stood in the back hallway leading toward the kitchens, but out of sight behind an artificial plant that towered over him. Sarutobi was due here any moment now, set to meet and receive a vital supply for her assignment. Bodyguarding Kuriko _and_ implanting laxatives within pizza sauce called for a steep price: _two_ dates with Gintoki, and Katsura had yet to figure out how he was going to manage or afford that. But there was too much on his mind already.

“Where is she?” Katsura wondered aloud, crossing his arms and tapping one foot against immaculately cleaned floors. He had to get back into the ballroom to monitor the Shinsengumi and await the arrival of Matsudaira and his daughter, not to mention the birthday man himself. All this while serving guests tasty appetizers on a platter and refilling their drinks.

Things were quickly becoming more complicated than he had anticipated, but once Elizabeth arrived in the artificial cake, then the Joui could begin the capturing of Kondou and Matsudaira; the metaphorical taking of the generals’ heads in order to render the enemy forces weak and useless without their leaders. 

“If you had wanted me to arrive sooner, you should have said so,” Sarutobi said, dropping down from the ceiling in an instant. “I’ve been here a whole half hour already, waiting for you to call on me with your next orders, you moron. Are you really a samurai? Are samurai this dense? How disappointing.”

Katsura drew in a deep breath to steady his racing heartbeat, brought on by her sudden arrival. “It’s not Moron, it’s Katsura. And why did you not signify your presence with some sort of signal? At least a written note like Elizabeth does. Why would I think to look for you in the ceiling?” Maybe on another day, he would’ve checked, but there were many things to keep track of tonight. 

“You don’t watch many ninja movies, do you?” Sarutobi replied, taking out a compact mirror and touching up her lipstick. “It’s a standard hiding place. You should’ve thought to check there first.”

“Never mind that. I have already ordered the pizzas, so you will need to make the switch at approximately—” Katsura stopped, his mind finally catching up to the sight of Sarutobi in an off-shoulder, form-fitting, dark purple cocktail dress with thousands of sparkling sequins. “Why are you wearing that?”

Sarutobi snapped her compact mirror shut and adjusted her glasses. “What do you mean? Is it too revealing and sophisticated for a humble samurai?” She winked at him, speaking coyly, “Or perhaps you see something you like? Well, I’ll have you know that only Gin-san is allowed to see something he likes—”

“Not at all. I am only attracted to widows.”

“That’s a weird fetish, even for me.”

“More importantly,” Katsura continued, frowning, “as a bodyguard, you should endeavour to draw as little attention as possible to yourself. Wearing a dress like that and next to the daughter of the city’s police-commissioner will only make you stand out.”

“Clearly you haven’t been to many of these high-profile parties because what I’m wearing makes me stand _in_ ,” Sarutobi replied with an airy sigh, fanning a hand against her neck. “I’ve been to my fair share of parties on a couple of jobs. Traditional or modern – everyone goes all out, flaunting their fanciest, shiniest, and most expensive outfits and accessories. It’s practically a mating display frenzy in these shindigs. You go in there wearing a drab, off-the-rack dress and people will question why you’re there and wonder who the hell invited a commoner like yourself.”

“It’s not Commoner, it’s Katsura.”

“Will you quit that stupid, overdone one-liner gag?? It’s old news now, nobody cares what your name is so long as you fulfill your role as an egg-headed idiot.” 

“I cannot, as it is an integral part of my character. How many others have a signature line like I do? Very few. If I cease to remind people to call me properly by my family name, then I cease to be Katsura altogether—”

“Shut up, just shut up! You’re annoying! You’re more annoying than that gorilla woman! You’re so annoying that you’re making _me_ play your straight man!”

“Everyone has to play the straight man at least once in their lives, and I have played it many times with old friends,” Katsura said in a patient voice, “Now then, if you are finished, we have a busy night ahead of us.” He reached inside the convenience store bag and fished out three small bottles of laxatives. “I assume you know what to do with these?”

Sarutobi snatched one of the boxes from his hand and inspected the label. “It’s a relief to read instructions for something else other than a burning ass.”

“The laxatives are a special powder mixture. Mix them in well. Do not leave a single speck visible.”

“Ha! Who do you think you’re talking to?” 

“And will you be able to conduct the operation in your conspicuous dress without your former comrade noticing?”

Sarutobi flashed him a flirtatious grin before responding, “I can handle any mission in this dress and these heels. I’m not Oniwaban for nothing. As for Zenzou, he’ll be too busy complaining about his ass and his job to even notice I’ve been there.”

* * *

  
**5:45:54 PM**

The main foyer to the ballroom was full of chattering guests, anxiously awaiting entry into the party, as the Shinsengumi and other assisting city police conducted background checks, scrutinized invitations for forgery, and searched for weapons. So far, no threats had been detected, but if there was, then that was what the Shinsengumi were there for.

Hanging around the main doors, keeping an eye on both the ballroom and the foyer, Okita had come to check on how everything was going at the security checkpoint and also to catch a break. The combination of loud voices and city pop music, perfumes and colognes, tables of food, and a wide range of outfits in dozens of colours was too much for a country-born samurai, who was unwilling to fully assimilate into modern city life. The whole thing was also mind numbingly dull. Okita half-wished someone would try something against him, just so he could relieve his boredom with a swift strike of his sword. 

But Kondou wouldn’t want that, and no matter how strong a battle desire could be roused from Hijikata, he probably wouldn’t want conflict tonight, either. Okita hadn’t let the man out of his sights for too long. Right now, Hijikata was speaking to Tetsunosuke on the other side of the main doors, still within Okita’s view.

Leaning against the wall next to a watercolour painting of a mountainous landscape, Okita shoved his hands inside his pockets and waited for something moderately interesting to occur.

The small radio transmitter attached to his collar buzzed. 

He lifted hand to engage with it. “Okita here. What is it?”

“Zzzz…”

Okita lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. Shimaru was hidden away inside the narrow roof space, observing the celebration with a hawk’s sharpness. He must’ve caught sight of something worth reporting. “Can you repeat that?”

Shimaru’s awkward, low voice crackled through the mic: “Zzz…purple-z.” 

“Purple?” Okita glanced toward the line of guests waiting for clearance. Prince Hata was arguing with Harada about bringing pets into the party, insisting that his new iguana-rooster hybrid from Planet Foghorn-Leghorn was a well-behaved creature and deserved equal admittance to the celebration. “Yeah, I see the moronic Prince.”

“Zzz…no…zzz…red glasses-z…”

On the ballroom side of things, a waiter walked by with a tray of champagne glasses. “They’re serving glasses of rose champagne, but I didn’t think you were a champagne drinker.”

Shimaru mumbled something barely incomprehensible.

“Wig?” Okita eyed a handful of people who noticeably wore wigs. “I see a couple of wigs, but what does that have to do with the mission?” He paused, wondering if that was a real expletive he had heard from the other end. “Shimaru-niisan? Oi, are you there?”

Just then, Matsudaira’s booming voice bounced off the walls, as he entered in formal robes, accompanied by Kuriko, also in her best kimono for the occasion. Several guests moved to greet him, most of them local politicians who wanted the support of the police-commissioner for the next election. 

Hijikata saw them, too, for he suddenly made an abrupt turn into the ballroom and ducked around the corner.

Okita smirked, the wheels in his crafty mind spinning, forming a series of tactics for getting Hijikata to cough up his unusual secret related to Kuriko. “I need to go, Shimaru-niisan,” Okita spoke into his mic, “Update me later, all right? Over and out.”

“Zzz!! Ceiling-z! Zzzzz!! Pizza-z!”

But Shimaru’s frantic protests were instantly forgotten as Okita fell into step several paces behind Hijikata, ready to spring a trap in the making.

* * *

  
**6:02:12 PM**

The back of Heaven’s Bakery was empty save for the five cakes sheltered within plastic containers, resting on long tables set up in the loading area. The staff and bakers were busy in their respective areas, and an empty delivery truck waited for its driver and the driver’s assistants.

Hasegawa was inside the manager’s office, discussing last minute details about the delivery. The Yorozuya were inside the restroom facilities, putting on uniforms Hasegawa had secretly acquired for them. Any remaining staff were simply much too busy to be in the loading area, and the other two delivery trucks were long gone, running around the city to various locations.

Elizabeth knew all this because she had been disguised as another cake, keeping her eyes closed but her ears open to all that was happening in Heaven’s Bakery, like an omnipresent entity. She heard every conversation, every door opening and closing, and every footstep. She smelled rich chocolate, sweet vanilla, and spicy cinnamon. Nobody noticed the seven-tiered cake with frilly purple and yellow icing and two miniature figures at the top, presenting herself as a wedding cake. 

That was how she knew Catherine, who worked at Snack Otose and hung around the Yorozuya on occasion, was in that artificial cake. Upon hearing an unfamiliar chuckle, Elizabeth had opened her eyes to witness the cat-eared Amanto peer around the corner, check for the Yorozuya and anyone else who might raise the alarm, and then tiptoe over to the artificial cake with a mischievous grin on her face. As if that wasn’t odd enough, Catherine had been wearing a shamrock green mini dress with a halter top. 

There was little time to wonder how Catherine knew about that underside hatch when only Katsura and Elizabeth herself were privy to that knowledge. And even less time to wonder why on earth Catherine was wearing a shamrock green mini dress with a halter top. The Yorozuya emerged into the loading area, dressed from head to toe in the Bakery’s uniform, complete with white caps and pale teal aprons. Each had their own opinion about these uniforms, but their conversation was ultimately lost to Elizabeth’s ears, as she watched Catherine slowly and quietly pull the hatch shut. Elizabeth wondered if there were enough airholes in that cake. 

While the Yorozuya were all distracted with fussing over their uniforms, Elizabeth blinked away frosting and reached inside her mouth for her radio.

* * *

  
**6:07:08 PM**

Katsura’s half of his two-way radio with Elizabeth crackled to life, and he reached inside his black vest and turned toward an aquarium, away from the growing crowd. “What is it, Elizabeth?” His glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them back up in annoyance. They were thick black frames with no lenses and had been picked up cheap at some novelty shop, so they were not the best fit for his face, but they would have to do. He’d get by and improvise, as he always did. 

“………! ………!”

Katsura frowned at his reflection, unable to interpret the meaning of Elizabeth’s placards through her silence. “I think we should have gone with the radios that offered screens,” he said, straining his ears to hear the smallest sound possible. “Elizabeth? Eli?” 

“It’s, _like_ , totally awesome to see you again, Kondou-san!”

At the sound of Kuriko’s voice, Katsura glanced to the corner of the aquarium, where he could see Kondou standing with Matsudaira and Kuriko, the three of them smiling and engaging in conversation. Or, at least, Katsura thought the third person was Kondou, for he lacked his uniform and usual spiky hairstyle. In fact, he looked more like one of the guests instead of the officers. Perhaps he was undercover, and if that was the case, then Katsura would have to be on the alert for more undercover officers.

“I cannot speak now, Elizabeth,” Katsura whispered into his radio, “Our targets have converged. Contact me again when you are inside the hotel.” Without waiting for a response, Katsura slipped the radio back inside his vest and picked up a tray of sushi delights. Wearing a serene smile, Katsura continued to make his rounds as a waiter, all the while closely watching the guests and the Shinsengumi. 

* * *

  
**6:10:13 PM**

Kyuubei had underestimated the number of reporters hounding the hotel, waiting for a glimpse of all the famous guests, including the guest of honour himself. Camera flashes winked from every direction. Requests for interviews filled the air. Names of known guests were called out, begging for the merest scrap of acknowledgment. Even fans had shown up, clustering behind the reporters, screaming and cheering whenever they saw someone they loved. 

Toujou walked ahead of them, asking all reporters to step down, all fans to quiet themselves, so that the ‘Young Master’ could pass through with their guests, unimpeded.

“Oh, my,” Tae said from Kyuubei’s right side, clutching her purse close, “I had no idea this would be such a high-profile event. I did figure it had to be since it’s Oguri-san’s birthday, but I hadn’t expected to see so many reporters.” 

“I didn’t, either,” Kyuubei replied with a frown, “This is a birthday party, not a film premiere. I should’ve requested a separate entrance.”

“That might have been best for Tsukuyo-san – oh!” Tae gasped and grinned. “I see Mizobata-san up ahead! He plays Detective Sano on Kendo Cop!” 

Kyuubei looked to see a tall, young actor signing an autograph for a lucky fan. Beyond him, the Silver Palace Hotel loomed in front, twelve floors high and eight rooms wide until the east and west wings folded inward, most likely housing even more rooms and conference areas. The main glass doors were nestled beneath a large, curved gable with undulating patterns of glittering silver. All the grand windows of a similar fashion were filled with warm, golden light. 

“Young Master!” Toujou was suddenly in their face, his eyes open wide in alarm, “Please tell your guest not to threaten the reporters! This could reflect badly on the Yagyuu Clan!”

Kyuubei looked back to see Tsukuyo aiming a kunai at a trembling reporter’s neck. 

Catching their gaze on her, Tsukuyo said, “This man is no reporter. I saw him attempting to sneak a camera under this woman’s dress.” The woman in question was standing off to the side, clutching part of her dress, nodding vigorously in agreement with a petrified expression.

Kyuubei turned to Toujou and said, “I’m not worried about Tsukuyo-dono, Courtesan of Death and Protector of Women, causing harm to my family’s reputation. Inform the hotel’s security and have that pervert removed from the premises before the three of us collectively enforce our own punishment.”

“Right away, Young Master!”

“Allow me to take care of his camera,” Tae said, stepping toward Tsukuyo and taking the camera from her. Tae then crushed the object between her bare hands with a smile.

Kyuubei smiled at both women, immensely proud to be their friend.

With Toujou hurrying onward to retrieve security, Kyuubei led the way instead, but once they were all inside and through the security clearance, it had taken only a minute for them to lose both Tae and Tsukuyo within the ballroom. Apparently, the three of them were among the last guests to arrive, and the party was in full swing. Oguri Shunnosuke had yet to arrive, but everyone else was eating, drinking, and mingling. Kyuubei had been too engrossed by the sight of all the people, all the food, and the crystal chandelier in the centre of ceiling to notice that Tae and Tsukuyo, likely caught off guard by the extravagance as they were, had been swept up in the flow of guests and hotel staff making their rounds. 

“Would you care for a cucumber roll?” one of the waiters asked them. His hair was tied back, and he wore thick-framed glasses that had fallen almost completely off the edge of his nose.

Kyuubei shook their head, not interested in eating until they located Tae and Tsukuyo. “No, thank you.”

The waiter nodded and continued onward. “Enjoy your evening, Yagyuu-dono.”

“Thank you—” Kyuubei froze and narrowed their eyes, watching the waiter disappear into the crowds. “Wait… How did he know who I was?” 

* * *

  
**6:29:39 PM**

An early dinner had consisted of five bowls of rice with five eggs, but Kagura was still hungry, and the sight of five delicious cakes with white icing and blue and yellow flowers and intricate red script frosting. Inside was chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, and the fun was in not knowing which was which. Kagura eyed the first cake that Gintoki and Hasegawa loaded into the delivery van at the back of Heaven’s Bakery.

“Don’t even think about it, Kagura-chan,” Shinpachi said from her side, adjusting the long sleeves of his uniform and apron with the Heaven’s Bakery logo in the center. “I’ll buy you a small cake from this place tomorrow and we can all share and celebrate a job well done.”

“I don’t want to celebrate tomorrow, I’d rather celebrate today, yes?” Kagura jutted her chin outward. “Besides, I wasn’t thinking about which cake is the strawberry at all, uh-huh.”

“You were definitely thinking about it! Look at the drool spilling out of your mouth!” Shinpachi sighed and motioned for her to follow him. “Come on, let’s get the next one ready.”

Pouting, Kagura followed Shinpachi toward the next cake to be loaded. But before she could touch anything, a massive shadow bounded into view and barked at her. 

“Sadaharu!”

Sadaharu woofed a greeting in return, as Kagura threw her arms around him and buried her face in his fur, smelling faintly of sukonbu. 

“Oi! What’s that giant dog doing here?” Hasegawa called out, rushing out of the van, “Get him away from the cakes! What if his fur gets on the frosting?”

“It’s okay,” Kagura replied, lifting her head out of the mass of fluff, “The frosting is white, so his fur will blend in, uh-huh. Besides, the cakes are already covered.”

“I’m going to lose my job,” Hasegawa muttered, running both hands through his hair, “I’m going to get fired faster than I can say ‘fired,’ I just know it!”

“Stop worrying and have some confidence,” Gintoki said, walking by him, picking his nose, “It takes a second to say ‘fired,’ so there’s no way the manager can fire you in a split-second. Two seconds, maybe, but not a split-second sooner.” 

“That doesn’t reassure me at all! And go wash your hands! Don’t even go near the cakes until you do!”

Sadaharu sniffed the air and gave three short barks.

“Get him to stop,” Hasegawa demanded, looking back at the employee doors leading further into the bakery, “What if somebody hears?”

“Sadaharu says he smells a cat,” Kagura said, standing by the artificial cake, “and a duck.”

“But we’re nowhere near a pet store or a zoo,” Shinpachi replied, brow furrowing in confusion. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know, but I trust Sadaharu, yes.” Kagura patted the dog’s nose, confident in its olfactory strengths.

“Why would there be a cat and a duck in a bakery?” Gintoki said, shaking his head and stretching his arms around another cake covering, as though hugging it. “Time to take that beast into the vet.” 

“Wipe your drool off the plastic before you load it into the van!” Hasegawa cried. 

* * *

  
**6:45:02 PM**

Sarutobi kept reminding herself that she was doing this for two dates with Gintoki. Not one date, but _two_. Two honest-to-goodness dates with Sakata Gintoki, according to Katsura, who promised he’d arrange the dates. Sarutobi knew she ought to be skeptical about Katsura managing to make her dreams come true, but she was so enthralled at the idea, so immersed within planning both dates that she didn’t care at all. Besides, if Katsura failed to make it happen, then she would kill him or maybe dish out punishment that little less severe in nature, something that would make up for her current task. 

“This is the most ridiculous mission I’ve ever done in my life,” she muttered to herself, strategically spooning laxative power into each of the ten pizzas, managing to do so without staining her dress. The pizzas were all stacked together on a back countertop, left alone while the manager went to call in Zenzou for delivery. She had two minutes at the most but aimed to finish within one. As soon as the powder touched the toppings, they were quickly absorbed into the grease and the sauce and anything that produced liquid. 

Still, in spite of the absurdity of it all, Sarutobi grinned to herself and thought about how the Shinsengumi were going to find themselves in deeper shit than they ever thought possible. Katsura and his bizarre mind could be entertaining when they wanted to be.

“Oh, Gin-san, I can’t wait for our first date!”

* * *

  
**6:50:58 PM**

If someone had told a young child named Hattori Zenzou that he would be delivering a foreign food called pizza across Edo, years in the future, he would have laughed and then stuck a kunai into their head. An Oniwaban, delivering meals like a servant? It was true that shinobi were servants of a sort, but menial tasks were out of the question for someone of his skill and prestige. 

And yet, here he was, making himself available at the beck and call of Pedoro’s Pizza Pies’ manager. Resigning himself to another long night, Zenzou walked into the back room to where the latest batch of pies was waiting. 

But a perfume scent stopped Zenzou in his tracks. He sniffed the air. It was faint and fading fast, but it was there— _had_ been there, rather, and it was a familiar scent. The last time he had encountered Sarutobi, she’d been on her way to a night outing with her friends in the city. She’d briefly commented on his current life decisions and then brushed past him, a lily scent trailing in her wake. This encounter had taken place last week. She probably still had half a bottle left of the stuff. 

But it couldn’t have been her, because what would she be doing at a pizza parlour and on a Saturday night, no less? It must’ve been a trick of the setting sun light combined with neon lights boasting that Pedoro’s Pizza Pies was open for business. Zenzou shook his head and pushed the idea of Sarutobi interfering with the pizzas out of his mind. It didn’t make sense at all. 

“Ten pizzas to be delivered to the Silver Palace,” Zenzou murmured to himself, reading the slip attached to the first box. Sighing, he wrapped them up in two large delivery bags and readied himself for a rooftop run. On top of everything, his hemorrhoids were acting up again, burning and itching, aching for a healing coolant. Maybe he’d pick up some medication from a convenience store on the way back.

“Let’s get this over with,” Zenzou said to the city’s skyline when he reached the top of the tallest building within the vicinity. “The sooner I deliver, the sooner my ass can find relief.”


	6. Saturday Part Two: Always Have a Back-up Plan for Your Back-up Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama or any pop culture references, celebrity quotes (kudos to you if you catch these ones, as a couple of them might be too obscure in this modern era), or celebrity names.
> 
> Sorry for the wait. Life is busy. 
> 
> We've reached the end at long last. Thank you very much for the kudos and comments and general support for this fic. Thanks for sticking around to find out how everything ends!

**7:00:00 PM**

Katsura prided himself on his plans and his ability to improvise if those plans didn’t go according to…plan. Many of his grand escapes were legendary. A prison that could hold him for more than a week had yet to be built. He probably had the most case files within the Shinsengumi archives, his greatest foes yet. All obstacles could be dealt with by going around, over, under, or straight through if he persevered and fought long enough. There was no shortage of confidence or courage within him.

And yet, as he climbed the sixteen steps of the ballroom’s staircase, which led to four private balconies overlooking the room’s expanse, Katsura had to take a deep breath and consider that he may have overlooked a couple of possibilities that might hinder his plans. 

Unexpectedly, obstacles in the form of friends and acquaintances had shown up to the celebration. Or rather, _complications_ with the potential to become full-blown obstacles.

The first person he’d noticed was the Yagyuu heir, standing near the main entrance, looking rather confused and out of place despite the fact they were dressed in as much finery as any of the other guests going traditional. Then he had passed the scarred blonde known as Yoshiwara’s Courtesan of Death, and she’d looked even more out of her element, standing stiffly in place, as guests flowed around her. And then there was the Kabukichou Deva, smiling and wandering through the crowd, straining her neck to look over the tallest person for somebody, most likely for the other two.

So far, none of them had recognized him.

If they detected trouble, Katsura had no doubt they would leap into action, protecting the guests, which was not a bad thing. But they might also get caught in the crossfire, as it were. Katsura had no desire to see them hurt, but he also didn’t want them to interfere and complicate matters anymore than they already were. 

There was also another complication in the mix. Part of this plan depended heavily on Sarutobi, and she hadn’t returned to the party yet. If she didn’t succeed, then he’d need to think of another way to subjugate a good majority of the Shinsengumi. Kondou would move to protect Matsudaira and Kuriko, which left Hijikata and Okita as the stronghold between their generals and the Jouishishi. Katsura had already brought a bottle of laxative-laced mayonnaise for Hijikata, who was unlikely to eat any of the pizza. As for Okita, there was a fifty-fifty chance, but it would probably come to a battle in the end, anyway. 

But dealing with those two alone would be easier than dealing with their subordinates at the same time. There was also Saitou to consider, but Elizabeth would be here in time to handle the silent captain in case he showed up tonight. 

Provided Sarutobi returned and alleviated his last concern, Katsura felt that everything could still go according to his initial plan so long as Tae, Tsukuyo, and Kyuubei stayed out of the conflict. 

Behind him, a private door opened.

Katsura spun around, still holding his tray of sushi. 

Oguri Shunnosuke, complete with his entourage of assistants and bodyguards, entered the ballroom, wearing formal robes and a blank expression on his face. 

The two men stared at each other, neither saying a word. 

Finally, Katsura broke the silence by saying, “Happy birthday, Oguri-dono.” He held the tray out toward the celebrity. “Cucumber roll?”

* * *

  
**7:15:39 PM**

After a narrow escape at the main entrance to the ballroom, Hijikata could now relax again, finding his way over to the far side of the room to stand in between two glass art sculptures of a crane and a dragon. From here, he wouldn’t immediately be seen by Kuriko, who was staying by her father’s side, more for Matsudaira’s sake than hers. As Hijikata recalled, Kuriko was embarrassed by her father’s antics, which meant there was a very real possibility that she would break off and mingle on her own. He had to stay three steps ahead of her, at least, and hide his face for as long as he could. 

As for Sougo, Hijikata had forgotten to keep the younger man within his sights. They had been at the main entrance together, but since Hijikata had dashed away upon seeing Kuriko and Matsudaira enter the hotel, Hijikata hadn’t stopped to look around for Sougo afterward. The brat was somewhere around here, was probably the one stalking him except that when Hijikata turned around to check, Sougo was nowhere to be seen. Who else would be surreptitiously following him around the ballroom? 

“Evening, Hijikata-san.”

Hijikata almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Sougo’s voice on his left side. Scowling at him, Hijikata said, “Don’t sneak up on me like that. Make some noise next time.”

“Relaxing your guard too much?” Sougo gazed at the throng of guests before them, some beginning to sit at the tables provided while others surged forward for a chance to speak to Oguri. “I thought you didn’t want to enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Who said I’m enjoying myself? Every aspect of this night is on my last nerve,” Hijikata muttered, crossing his arms. “There are almost as many officers on hand as there are guests. We didn’t need to be here.”

“I guess Pops trusts us more than anyone else,” Sougo remarked, “Speaking of which, I haven’t gotten around to greeting him and _Kuriko-san_ yet. Have you?”

Keeping his eyes on the crowd, Hijikata remained outwardly impassive at the mention of her name and Sougo’s unusual emphasis on it. “No. If I run into them, I will acknowledge them as necessary.”

“I heard _Kuriko-san_ was looking forward to this party,” Sougo went on, “I hope _Kuriko-san_ has a fun evening.”

“Why are you saying her name so much?” Hijikata gave him a sidelong glance, trying to ignore the spider of unease creeping up his spine. “You sound like a robot.”

“I’m just trying not to forget _Kuriko-san’s_ name since I haven’t said it or seen _Kuriko-san_ in awhile,” Sougo answered, “ _Kuriko-san_ is a nice girl, isn’t she? I hope nothing spoils _Kuriko-san’s_ evening…”

Hijikata’s hands squeezed into fists beneath his elbows, certain more than ever that Sougo suspected something was up. 

“…especially nothing like rude manners or cold rejections or _embarrassing secrets._ ”

The balmy air inside the ballroom did not help the cold sweat breaking out at the back of Hijikata’s neck, as if Matsudaira was calling for seppuku and Sougo was readying his sword against skin, prepared to assist Hijikata into the afterlife for breaking Kuriko’s heart. 

“What do you think, Hijikata-san?” Sougo asked, sounding very much like he was smiling – and deviously at that.

Slowly unfolding his arms and hanging them at his side, and resting one hand on his sword’s hilt, Hijikata forced a light chuckle. “I hope not, either. If something did happen to ruin her evening or endanger her…then I’d make the one responsible commit seppuku here in this ballroom.”

“Me, too,” Sougo said, “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to avenge Kuriko-san’s ruined evening. By the way, you seem nervous about something.” Sougo smiled warmly at him. “Are you feeling okay, Hijikata-san?”

Hijikata swallowed hard, knowing he had to get away from Sougo quickly, maybe duck back outside at the security checkpoint and hide there for the duration of the party. Anywhere to escape that smile of doom. “I’m fine,” he replied evenly, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Just sweating under these damn lights.”

“That’s good,” Sougo said, “I wouldn’t want anything _bad_ to happen to you.”

Now that was a complete lie and a confirmation that Sougo had inkling of what Hijikata was so desperately trying to hide. Spotting Kuriko and Matsudaira coming around the outside of a circle of guests, Hijikata needed no more reasons to bolt. “I’m going to go check on Kondou-san,” he said, walking away, quickly.

“Don’t you want to greet Pops and Kuriko-chan?” 

Already slipping into the mass of guests, Hijikata pretended not to have heard the question.

* * *

  
**7:19:31 PM**

Tae strolled through the crowd, a silly grin on her face. The slow and dreamy melodies of Yamashita Tatsu’s “Magic Ways” lifted her into the clouds where she floated high on happiness. Mizobata Junya had only spoken to her moments ago, thanking for her devotion to _Kendo Cop_ and asking her to stay tuned for the new season. He was even more charming in person, and she would always treasure his autograph on one of her dojo business cards – of which he had taken another, promising he would spread the word. 

Now all she had to do was find Horikita Mami – and Kyuubei and Tsukuyo, of course. They were in the ballroom somewhere and wouldn’t leave without her. Losing them so suddenly had thrust her out into a sea of strangers wherein her first reaction was to start passing out business cards while she could. Some people took them, some under duress after initially rude rejections, and others politely declined. Tae hoped her dojo would be soon be filled with new students. 

But there would be time to think about that later. Both Kyuubei and Tsukuyo must be uncomfortable without each other around. Tae didn’t necessarily crave gatherings of the famous and wealthy, but she was confident in her ability to handle them, making the most of her situation. But the other two were liable to throw any number of men across the room from a kneejerk reaction. They needed her guidance, and she would gladly provide it once she found them. There were better and more creative ways to throw men.

Mizobata’s smile entered her mind again, and Tae almost didn’t see Hijikata crossing her path. They stopped in time before a collision, mirroring each other’s surprised expressions.

“Hijikata-san, good evening,” Tae said, smiling again, “You almost knocked me over, and that would’ve been terrible to have my brand-new kimono ruined by clumsiness. Terrible for the kimono and terrible for you.”

Hijikata eyed her suspiciously. “I’d ask if that was a sly threat or not, but I know better. Just so you know, I’m not above removing anyone for causing a disturbance in public, even you.”

Tae giggled. “Oh, Hijikata-san – you’re surprisingly good with the jokes. Have you ever thought of doing stand-up comedy? You could give The Tunnels’ a run for their money. Perhaps Okita-san can join you.” She paused to look for the younger man, fairly certain that she had seen him earlier. “I must say, I’m surprised to find you and the Shinsengumi among the party guests tonight.” Most likely they were here for security and most likely Kondou was here, as well. Tae hoped the Chief would be on his best behaviour tonight and face her like a normal human being. “What is it that you’re doing—”

“I’m not hiding anything!”

Tae stared at Hijikata with wide, curious eyes. “I didn’t say you were…are you all right, Hijikata-san? You seem nervous about something.”

Raking a hand through his hair with a sigh, Hijikata replied, “I'm _not_ nervous, all right? I’m just…agitated. I need a cigarette.”

“Would you care for a bottle of mayonnaise, sir?” a waiter asked

Without thinking or questioning why, Hijikata nodded and took the proffered bottle. “Thanks.”

Tae stared at the strange exchange in process and then at the bespectacled waiter, who quietly slipped back within the crowd, ponytail swinging behind him. “Uh, Hijikata-san…”

“I didn’t think they would be serving mayonnaise,” Hijikata said, twisting the cap off, “That’s one saving grace of this ridiculous night.” He raised the bottle to his lips.

“Announcing the arrival of Oguri Shunnosuke-san!” came a booming voice over the speakers.

Applause and cheers erupted, as everyone turned their gazes to the top of the grand staircase where Oguri was slowly descending, smiling and stopping once in awhile to offer bows of gratitude. 

Tae clapped along with everyone else, and when she turned to Hijikata, she found him gone, and her eyes settled instead on a young woman approaching her. 

This woman’s light brown hair was cut to a bob level just below her ears, and she wore a dark purple kimono with geometric patterns of bright colours, reflecting a taste for modern kimono fashion. However, what interested Tae more was that the woman paid little attention to the fanfare for Oguri and seemed very focused on Tae herself. 

“Like, who was that you were just talking to a minute ago?” the woman asked, revealing a higher-pitched voice.

Tae smiled at her. “My, but it’s impolite to ask questions without greeting a fellow guest first. I’m sure you were raised to have good manners, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

The woman went pink to her ears and quickly bowed her head. “I’m totally sorry, madam!”

“Oh, I’m not old enough yet to be called ‘madam,’” Tae said, inclining her head in acknowledgment, “Please call me Shimura—or Otae if you wish. Everyone knows me best as Otae.”

“Otae-san,” the woman repeated, a small and shy smile crossing her lips, “I’m Matsudaira Kuriko, but you can call me Kuriko!”

“Kuriko-chan,” Tae said, finding the woman’s mannerisms endearing, almost like having an adorable little sister. “It’s very nice to meet you. I assume your father is the police-commissioner himself?”

“Yes, he is!” Kuriko pursed her lips. “He’s somewhere around here. I left him behind because he’s, like, _totally_ embarrassing.” 

“Then surely you must know Hijikata-san? He works with your father.”

“Hiji…kata…san?” Kuriko blinked several times, her forehead creasing into a confused frown. “But I thought his name is Mayora-sama?”

Had she been drinking or eating, Tae would’ve spat it all out on the carpet by now. Stifling her laughter, Tae replied with a grin, “Maybe that’s a nickname among his friends? I only know him as Hijikata-san. But Mayora suits him as well.” Hijikata’s fondness for mayonnaise must be known far and wide by now. That would explain the waiter having mayonnaise on hand, although there was something off about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

“Hijikata-san…” Kuriko gazed off in the direction Hijikata must’ve left, and Tae wondered if she had looked that smitten while talking to Mizobata. 

Kuriko then bid her goodbye and hurried off through the crowd. 

Tae watched her go until she heard another voice cry out, “Otae-san!”

* * *

  
**7:22:02 PM**

There were no airholes inside the artificial cake, as Catherine had discovered a few minutes into her journey to the hotel. Fortunately, the layers made out of a material that allowed for fingers poking through and creating a much-needed airflow to combat against the stuffiness. Her entire body was sweating far too much for comfort, but the knowledge that there might be a pit stain or two wasn’t enough to deter Catherine from her goal: meeting Oguri Shunnosuke in person.

“Actors sweat, too,” Catherine whispered to herself, “Actors piss and shit like the rest of us. Shunnosuke-sama won’t care. A little healthy sweat is good for you.”

Gintoki drove the delivery van, as noted by Hasegawa, who kept shouting for Gintoki to take it easy on the curves and to stay within the legal limits, so that the cops didn’t ticket them for speeding. Hasegawa’s stressed out voice was about the only one she could hear clearly enough, the rest muffled and cheerful.

After what seemed to take hours, the van slowed and Hasegawa’s voice took on sharp, directive tones. They were most likely driving into the loading area of the hotel. The artificial cake had been loaded last, so it would be unloaded first. 

Once she deemed the surroundings quiet and safe enough, Catherine would make her exit and her party debut. 

“Careful…careful!!” 

“Hasegawa-san, please calm down. I’m _just_ opening the back doors,” Shinpachi said.

“My entire future is riding on this one delivery, do you know that? One small screw-up and I’m doomed!”

“Don’t worry, we’re going to be extra careful, aren’t we, Kagura-chan?”

“Uh-huh, you can’t get any more careful than the Yorozuya.” A loud bang sounded to the right of Catherine, making her jump and clamp a hand across her mouth to keep from yelping.

“Oi, take it easy! You dropped the ramp on purpose, didn’t you? You want me fired, don’t you?!”

“Calm down, Hasegawa-san, I’m sure it was just an accident. It _was_ an accident, wasn’t it, Kagura-chan?”

A dog barked, and Kagura said, “Sadaharu says the smell of cat is stronger than ever. I bet a stray cat jumped into the van when we weren’t looking, yes?”

“Why are you ignoring the question?” Hasegawa demanded, “Leave the dog alone and just focus on the cakes!”

“Now, where did Gin-san take off to?” Shinpachi wondered, “Did he go inside? I didn’t see him leave.”

“I told him to take the smaller desserts in first,” Hasegawa said, “but I also told him to come back and help us with the cakes.” An exasperated sigh. “I should’ve taken them myself, but I don’t trust to leave these cakes unattended.” 

“Let’s get this artificial one out of the way,” Shinpachi suggested, “We should bring the cakes in first, right? I hear Otsuu-chan is going to sing once the candles are all lit. Do you mind if I stay just a bit to hear her sing?”

Catherine gritted her teeth, feeling the temperature increase inside her cramped hiding place. _Hurry up, you morons! I don’t want to die before I meet Shunnosuke-sama!!_

* * *

  
**7:34:24 PM**

“Would you care for a drink, madam?” asked the smiling waiter. 

Tsukuyo gazed at the platter of twinkling wine glasses filled with Dom Perignon, her dry mouth watering. She hadn’t had anything to drink in the last couple of hours, not even water. Hinowa and a couple of the younger girls helping her into a fashionable kimono, and then joining Kyuubei and Tae at the front doors before strolling inside, had left her saddled with a case of nerves over being in the public eye. 

To make matters worse, she had spotted Gintoki earlier in a delivery uniform, still looking handsome with his dead fish eyes and finger twisting around in his ear. The way he had carefully set out platters of sweet treats on the long tables had set her heart aflutter. His hands were so delicate, so precise, handling the desserts with the same fluidity he exerted with his wooden sword, wiping away drool from the corner of his mouth with a flourish. Damn him.

She knew she shouldn’t drink, but maybe just one glass would calm her jitters over seeing Gintoki and feeling forced hide her Yoshiwara accent from strangers. Where had Tae gone, anyway? She’d lost her in the crowd once the paparazzi flooded in and hounded Kyuubei, forcing Tae and Tsukuyo out of the picture and into the throng of guests. 

“Madam?”

The wine glasses sparkled bright underneath the chandelier glow, tempting her.

Tsukuyo licked her lips and reached for a glass. “Thank you,” she said to the waiter, who acknowledged her gratitude with a nod and walked away.

Taking a deep breath, she quietly told herself, “Just one,” and took a small sip.

* * *

  
**7:36:58 PM**

Sarutobi exhaled noisily, back within the dark confines of the cavity space above the ballroom. She squeezed through narrow, dusty rafters and support beams to the same spot where she’d carved a hole into the ceiling to view the party below. Once she pinpointed Kuriko’s location, she’d select the entrance that would allow for the quickest route to the young woman, sidle into the crowd, and pretend she’d always been there. She could’ve done that first, but didn’t want to waste too much time searching for Matsudaira’s daughter. 

Peering through the spyhole, Sarutobi saw Kyuubei, Tsukuyo, and Tae among the guests. They were separated, with Kyuubei and Tsukuyo hovering near the walls. Tae was talking to Kuriko for some odd reason, and then the girl took off suddenly, cutting through the crowd with her flashy kimono. 

“Mayora-sama!!” Kuriko shouted, her voice rising above the din, catching the attention of amused guests who went back to their conversations. “Mayora-sama, where are you?”

“Who the hell is Mayora-sama?” Sarutobi muttered. She spotted a familiar Shinsengumi dog, Kondo Isao in slicked back hair, maneuvering through the crowd toward Tae. Sarutobi chuckled at that. Though she no longer considered Tae a contender for Gintoki’s affections, Sarutobi was glad that Tae would be too distracted by her police acquaintance and vice versa to notice and point out Sarutobi’s presence in the party. Otherwise, if Kondou or his faithful hounds spotted her shadowing Kuriko, they might question her, and then Katsura would lecture her about not being inconspicuous enough if he found out. She could almost hear him nagging her again, like a mother clicking her tongue and saying, ‘I told you so.’ 

Somebody coughed.

Sarutobi threw two small shuriken in the direction of that cough, her eyes widening when the shuriken clashed with the glint of a sword in the dim light. There was a man here with her – a Shinsengumi captain by the looks of his uniform, and someone unknown to her with thick orange hair.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Sarutobi demanded.

The man blinked his crimson eyes at her, and then lifted a notebook: _Z._

* * *

  
**7:37:01 PM**

“Otae-san, how are you enjoying this fine evening?” Kondou asked, once he'd made his way over to her, happy to spot her beautiful face in the crowd.

Tae had her usual deceptively sweet smile on, like a warning light. “I’m enjoying myself just fine, Kondou-san. I had a relaxing morning, too, with no stalkers to dispose of, so I hope my evening will be just as relaxing.” 

“Uh, yes…” Kondou laughed awkwardly. “About that…” How to phrase his apology and determination to drop his ungentlemanly habit. “Otae-san…” Drawing in a deep breath, Kondou bowed low and said, “I’m deeply sorry about yesterday morning!! Please forgive me for displaying such atrocious behaviour!! From this moment on, I will no longer stalk you!”

Tae crossed her arms. “Is that a promise?”

“Yes, it’s a promise!” Kondou began explaining how he had come here with the intention to mimic Oguri Shunnosuke in appearance and behaviour in order to win her heart tonight. But, judging by her unimpressed expression, he had a long way to go before she even considered a date with him. “Will you forgive me? I'm really and truly sorry! A samurai should never act in such a disgraceful way!"

“All right, I accept your apology and your 90,000 yen.”

“Thank you, Otae-san, I—eh? 90,000 yen? I didn’t offer that—”

“Oh, but you did, Gori-san! Right in between the apology for hiding beneath the floorboards and the apology for hiding in the fruit stand at the market. 120,000 yen, you said! Yes, indeed,” Tae finished with a smile.

“Why did the compensation go up?! And Gori-san? Are you calling me a Gorilla?” Kondou paused, as another thought occurred to him, and he grinned. “You know, people actually call me the Dragon of Dojima because he resembles me a little. Of course, our career choices couldn’t be further apart, but we could practically be brothers, don’t you think? A pair of handsome brothers!”

Just then, a scream tore through the air. “It’s him!!”

Kondou tensed up, grabbed the handle of his sword. “Who was that? Who is ‘him?’”

“Chief!” Tetsunosuke suddenly appeared at his side, frantic and pale. “We tried to keep them at bay! We managed to hold them back for half an hour!”

“Held back who?”

“But they pushed through! There are too many of them!”

“Too many of who?!”

Tetsunosuke pointed behind him. “There they are! Hurry, Chief! Run! I’ll hold them off!”

Kondou spun around to see a woman clutching close to her chest a framed photo of a familiar video game character.

“See?” She pointed at Kondou. “I told you I saw Kiryuu Kazuma!! The Dragon of Dojima is real and he’s here!” the woman declared, and out from behind her thundered a horde of fangirls squealing in delight. They ran straight for him, screaming for autographs and dates and photos. 

Kondou stood rooted in place, smile frozen on his face. 

One of them whipped out a coil of rope with a huge grin.

Kondou turned to Tae with his hands clasped together in apology. “Excuse me, Otae-san, but as much as I would love to stay here and write you a cheque, I think I need to get the hell out of here fast!” Kondou sprinted off, pushing his way through the crowd. “TOUSHI, HELP!!!”

“I’ll come collect my cheque later tonight!” Tae called out after him. 

* * *

  
**7:39:24 PM**

Wearing his apron inside out for Hasegawa’s sake, Gintoki pretended he was one of the guests enjoying the arrival of tasty desserts from Heaven’s Bakery. The tables were already loaded with delectable offerings of grilled meats and fresh fish and more that might tempt others, but not him. He was a sugar man through and through, and as a temporary and unofficial employee of Heaven’s Bakery, it was important that he test all goods before serving. And so, he had loaded a plate with one of each dessert they had delivered. Hasegawa might yell at him later, but a half hour of traffic with the Madao had desensitized Gintoki to lectures. 

“Pardon me,” said a woman, dwarfed in an oversized Kawakubo Mei blue dress, “but don’t you think you’re being a bit greedy with the desserts?”

Gintoki eyed the unusual lumps and bumps in the woman’s dress and the wide, puffy skirt that resembled an umbrella – perfect way to smuggle more desserts out of the ballroom, as his apron pockets were filling up fast. “If I can borrow that dress, I’ll be even greedier.”

“How dare you! This is the latest in fashion, you plebeian!”

Gintoki reached out and snatched a wide-brimmed hat off an unsuspecting guest walking by. “Plebeian? Who are you calling a plebeian? Surely not Iwaya Tomokazu himself, mm?” 

The woman’s eyes widened like the saucers of tonkatsu sauce nearby on the buffet tables. “You? _You’re_ Iwaya Tomokazu!”

“You better believe I’m Iwaya Tomokazu,” Gintoki said in snooty tones, jutting his chin out and gazing at her through narrowed eyes. “You want to talk about the latest in fashion? You want hot culture in your haute couture? Look no further – I’m debuting my latest and greatest creation tonight. You think your lumpy dress is daring? Ha! Your pedestrian tastes don’t even know what ‘daring’ is. My dresses have more lumps and bumps than konpeito.”

“I don’t believe you’re Iwaya-san!” She turned to a passing hotel staff member. “Waiter! Waiter, can you remove this man from the hotel?” the woman demanded, snapping her fingers. "Immediately!"

However, the waiter barely cast them a second glance, moving out of their vicinity with fast strides.

“Well, I never!” the woman huffed, “What a rude waiter!”

Arching an eyebrow, Gintoki couldn’t think of anything to comment on, too preoccupied with puzzling out why that waiter was so familiar behind the fake glasses. “…Zura?” 

* * *

  
**7:40:02 PM**

Katsura handed the last of his cucumber rolls to a guest, and then abandoned the tray on the nearest table. Sighing and wiping a bead of sweat from his temple, Katsura surveyed the crowd and marveled over how his problems had doubled within five minutes.

First, Sarutobi still hadn’t shown up to guard Kuriko. Perhaps she had encountered trouble at the pizza parlour, and if she had failed to plant the laxatives within the pizzas, then disrupting the washroom pipes had been a waste of time. 

Second, Kuriko was constantly on the move, although it was good that she had separated from her father; it would be easier to keep her unharmed during the imminent capture of her father and Kondou. But Okita was making his way over to her instead, which was not part of the original plan.

Third, Kondou was causing a major scene, doing his best to dodge a horde of fangirls that had broken in, screaming about the Dragon of Dojima with Kondou wildly insisting that he was only the Dragon’s brother, Gorilla.

Fourth, Gintoki was here, which would further complicate matters. For one thing, if Gintoki spotted him, then Katsura would have trouble securing the two promised dates for Sarutobi. Another thing was that if Gintoki was here, then the rest of the Yorozuya most likely would be, too, and Katsura didn’t want Shinpachi and Kagura caught up in the chaos, either. 

“Do not panic,” Katsura murmured, “A samurai is always prepared for the unexpected.” He spoke into his transmitter, “Elizabeth, are you here yet? We are encountering some unforeseen problems…”

Static answered instead.

Katsura swallowed hard, face deepening into a frown. All hope was not lost yet; he could improvise as needed. But first he had to isolate both Matsudaira and Kondou before signalling the other Joui to move.

* * *

  
**7:44:08 PM**

“Shimaru-niisan, are you there?”

“A Shinsengumi dog hiding out in the ceiling like a cat. Who are you and why haven’t I seen you before? I thought I knew all the cop characters in this series…”

Saitou didn’t know who to answer first, and both required verbal and written communication. And so, he remained crouched, sword and notebook in both hands and an unspoken plea that Sougo would figure out his situation. Saitou also hoped that the violet-haired woman – evidently a shinobi – would lower her kunai and catch on to the fact that he was a bad conversationalist, and that she should, therefore, exercise her right to remain silent during her arrest. Saitou did plan to arrest her and take her in for questioning, because no one should be hiding out in the ceiling except for himself. And once he found his pen, which had rolled away in the dark, he would ask her just what she was planning to do. 

“You must be in a position where you can’t speak,” Sougo’s voice buzzed through the transmitter, “I understand. I’ll speak then.”

“What an idiot,” the shinobi said, snorting in amusement, “Any enemy can hear his voice coming over the radio. Dumbass. Sounds a lot like the boy who thought he could order an M like me around…”

“I’ve almost got the truth out of Hijikata, but I’m switching gears.”

“…thinks he’s a big _S_ when he’s barely an _s_. I’m only an M for Gin-san and no one else. Ahhh, Gin-san!!”

“I’m going to go straight to the source: Kuriko-san herself.”

“Huh? What’s he want with the girl? Shit, I’m supposed to be guarding her.” 

“After I find out what the secret is and Pops plays a little game with Hijikata, I’m a shoo-in for Vice-Chief. Then we’ll go after Katsura.”

“So, you’ve caught on to that egghead’s plan, have you?” The woman sighed, apparently unconcerned. “I guess I should warn him, seeing as how he hired me. I only have one job to do, so your feud with him is nothing to me. But if I had to choose, I’d—” She stopped short, snapping her gaze to the spyhole she’d been using. “Gi…Gin-san!” she practically shrieked. “He’s here! My love is here!”

* * *

  
**7:50:26 PM**

Disguised as a waiter now, Yamazaki roamed along the edge of the crowd, keeping his eye on Katsura, and it was proving to be a difficult task. Katsura moved swiftly, hellbent on some goal related to the Shinsengumi, and Yamazaki still had not figured out just what it was that Katsura had planned.

Telling Hijikata the disappointing news hadn’t gone as badly as Yamazaki had feared. Instead, Hijikata seemed on edge about something else.

“So far Katsura has not spoken to anyone but his shirt collar,” Yamazaki said, “I believe he has a transmitter embedded in the material. He might be relaying orders to his comrades, whom I believe are among us…uh, Vice-Chief? Are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah, Katsura has a talking shirt,” Hijikata replied absently, standing by a life-size porcelain statue of the hotel’s founder—or more like he was trying to hide behind it, peering out now and then to the right, as if searching for someone. 

“No, no, he’s talking _into_ his shirt.”

“Don’t you have more useful information?” Hijikata demanded, throwing Yamazaki an annoyed glance.

“But don’t you see? The Joui might be organizing now as we speak!”

“Sougo’s not coming this way, is he?” Hijikata peered around the statue again, and then muttered a curse, taking out a mayonnaise bottle and removing the lid. “I haven’t had time for mayonnaise, I’m too damn stressed…” He lifted the bottle to his mouth, and then stopped. “Where’s Kondou-san? Katsura could be after him. We need to protect Kondou-san!”

“He’s over there.” Yamazaki pointed to where Kondou was dodging fangirls and guests alike, working his way toward the grand staircase where Oguri Shunnosuke was speaking to some reporters, who had been allowed in to grab a brief statement from the celebrity.

“What the hell??” Hijikata snapped the cap back onto his mayonnaise bottle and hurried away. “Zaki, find Katsura! I'm going after Kondou-san!”

* * *

  
**8:00:02 PM**

Hasegawa wheeled the artificial cake into the ballroom and paused just outside a semi-circle of reporters asking Oguri Shunnosuke questions about the celebration, his latest movie, and his life in general.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hasegawa steadied the trolly cart and smiled to himself. Everything had been delivered safely in spite of one setback: having to chastise Gintoki, who wore a ridiculous hat, for not helping Kagura and Shinpachi bring the cakes in. Gintoki had dismissed his worries, saying he had been busy inspecting the desserts for quality, and then had walked off into the party guests. 

Hasegawa knew he should be worried about Gintoki going off on his own in the middle of a high-profile party, but Hasegawa was so overcome with relief at making a successful delivery that he couldn’t find it in him to care too much. The job was done. The party organizers were sure to send in a good report to Heaven’s Bakery. The last obstacle to deal with was tracking down the original staff member who had ordered this artificial cake, because none of the staff he’d spoken to had any idea of what to do with it. 

“I’m finally going to have a job longer than a week,” Hasegawa said, smiling up at the chandelier. Once he had scraped enough money together for a small apartment, he’d start budgeting for more clothes, more food, and perhaps a small gift for Hatsu in anticipation of their renewed life together when they were both prepared to take that next step. 

A tall, blonde woman in a black kimono with cherry blossoms walked into his line of sight, swaying slightly on her feet, a silly smile on her flushed face. Hasegawa eyed her hair pin and wondered if Hatsu would want an accessory like that.

Then, he did a double take, blinking repeatedly behind his sunglasses. That woman had two noticeable scars on her face, and if he recalled correctly, those scars belonged to the leader of the Hyakka. 

What was she doing here of all places? And had that been a glass of champagne in her hands? No, _two_ glasses? 

Hasegawa gulped, his worries returning. A tipsy Tsukuyo was a harbinger of disaster, doubly so if Gintoki, sober or drunk, crossed her path. And both were out there and loose among the guests. 

Before Hasegawa could further contemplate the potential calamities ahead, the bottom of the artificial cake opened up and a body tumbled out, gasping and wheezing and cursing. 

* * *

  
**8:03:14 PM**

After twisting open the hatch and throwing her body against it for good measure, Catherine dropped out and rolled across the carpet. Cooler air swept over her sweat-drenched body, and she climbed to her feet quickly and took stock of her surroundings.

The Madao was standing off to her right, wailing and shouting about how he had just smuggled an intruder in and was going to lose his job and that he was a fool for daring to hope that things would change. A few of the guests had taken notice of her, gasping, frowning, staring at her from behind their silk fans. Most were dressed in lavish gowns and suits and finely embroidered kimonos. 

Catherine snorted at the snooty sight of them all. “What kind of party is this?” Catherine remarked with distaste, ears twitching at the airy vocals of a love song. “What lifeless music. Where’s the beat? Where's the rock and roll? Play some Boøwy! Play some Show-Ya!”

“ _What_ the hell were you doing in there?” Hasegawa demanded, stepping up to her, “ _How_ did you get in there? And _why_ did you get in there?!”

“If you want something done, you have to do it yourself,” Catherine replied, “I wanted an invitation to the party, but no one would give me one, so I had to find my own way in!”

Hasegawa continued to pelt her with questions and accusations, but a camera flash distracted her, and Catherine glanced in the direction it had come from. At the base of the grand staircase, reporters clustered around Oguri Shunnosuke, who had yet to notice her presence.

Catherine smirked. Well, she would change that. 

“Shunnosuke-sama, darling!” 

* * *

  
**8:07:19 PM**

While Shinpachi tried to calm down a hysterical Hasegawa, Kagura seized the opportunity to start sampling the desserts at the table. She started with a bowl of candy, which she deposited into her mouth and would have swallowed them all at once if she hadn’t heard a memory of Shinpachi’s voice, telling her to chew first before swallowing. 

“I didn’t say to chew first, I said to put them down!” Shinpachi cried, “And why are you pretending I exist only in a flashback?”

“When you compare the amount of scenes I feature in this story compared to a pair of glasses, then the flashback is where you deserve to be, uh-huh,” Kagura said, reaching for the pears and the grapes and stuffing them into her mouth one by one.

“We’re not supposed to eat any of the food!”

While chomping down on the fruit, Kagura eyed the first of the five grand cakes, fresh drool seeping out the corners of her mouth. The whole party was starting to fall apart, anyway – who would miss one cake? She could almost hear Shinpachi telling her not to be tempted by the pink frosting and yellow rosettes. 

“I _am_ telling you not to be tempted!” Shinpachi insisted, “I know you can hear me for real!”

In addition to ignoring Shinpachi, Hasegawa was growing too loud and noisy of a mess for Kagura to also ignore. Scowling, Kagura grabbed the last bunch of grapes and threw them at him. “Shut up, you Madao! Did you really think you could escape the clutches of your drawn-out gag of being jobless and homeless? Did you think this was a coming-of-age story with character development?”

Hasegawa yelped and ducked out of the fruit missile. 

“Now look what you did!” Kagura cried, watching as the grapes sailed through the air.

“ _I_ did that?” Hasegawa jabbed a finger at Kagura. “ _You_ did that! And I have a strong suspicion you Yorozuya are behind that cat woman’s plan to sneak in, too!”

“I swear we didn’t know Catherine-san was in there!” Shinpachi protested, “Although that does explain why Sadaharu could smell a cat.”

“Something always goes wrong when you help me!” Hasegawa continued, “Why should I have expected tonight to be any different??”

Wiping pear juice from her mouth, Kagura left them to their bickering and zeroed in on the cake. 

* * *

  
**8:10:12 PM**

Upon arriving at the Silver Palace Hotel, Tama deduced that the main entrance would be busy with people, unnecessarily prolonging her search. Besides, given Catherine’s suspected motive in trespassing at this social event, Tama believed Catherine would forego all public entranceways and seek access through doors designated for hotel personnel.

And so, Tama followed a maintenance staff through a door marked _Employees Only_. Nobody seemed to notice or care that she was wandering the corridors without a proper uniform, but then the apron she wore for work probably gave them reason to believe she was part of the kitchen staff. Accessing the hotel blueprints she had downloaded prior to her arrival, Tama located the quickest route to the main ballroom, where the celebration was being held, according to the snippets of conversation she caught from passing staff.

On her way, there was a flutter of activity by the men’s public washroom, and a custodian ran past her, wheeling a cleaning cart. Ordinarily, she might stop and offer assistance, perhaps speak to the mechanical system that operated the toilets and find a solution to whatever problem they were dealing with.

But Otose had entrusted her to an important mission: find Catherine and bring her back to the shop. Otose was working alone to serve many customers, so Tama would not stray from that mission. 

She entered through the first set of doors that led into the ballroom, emerging next to a few tables piled with gifts. Pop idol Otsuu and her back-up band were singing ‘Happy Birthday-Cornpoop’ to Oguri Shunnosuke with the guests singing along. Everyone seemed in jovial spirits except for two people in front of her. 

* * *

  
**8:12:50 PM**

Matsudaira was in the middle of sharing all about Kabukichou nightlife to a handful of listeners when somebody careened into him from behind, hiccupping loudly in his ear. The wine spilled out of his glass and onto his clothes, a dark stain spreading fast. 

Scowling, Matsudaira spun around and said, “What’s the big idea here, huh? Can’t hold your liquor?”

“You talking to me?” the blonde, scarred woman demanded, jutting her chin out at him, gazing down with a scary gleam in her eyes. 

“Oi, that’s my line, woman,” Matsudaira said, struggling against his instincts that were telling him to run – to run away now and to run away far. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be doing the Robert Be Niro impressions. Let me tell you this – there are three ways of doing a Robert Be Niro impression around here: the wrong way, the right way, and the way that I do it. See? It’s a hundred years too early for you to beat my impressions!”

“My name isn’t Bobert De Niro,” the woman said, “You shouldn’t call people by the wrong names. Don’t you have any manners? Huuuh??”

“You can get further with a rude word and a gun than you can with just manners,” Matsudaira replied, gesturing with his hands, “I told you, you can’t do any impression better than I can. Why don’t you try Riza Hawkeye instead, eh? You got the looks, you got the stoic expression, you—” He froze when the sharp tip of a kunai broke the skin on his brow, a tiny line of blood trickling down toward his nose. “You got the damn accuracy, too.”

“Shut up before I _teach_ you some manners, old man,” she said in a cold voice. 

Chuckling and shuddering from fear at the same time, Matsudaira grinned and said, “Well, well, well – looks like the evening is beginning to liven up! Say, why don’t we leave this joint and head on down to Snack Smile for a couple of drinks? I know the manager and the hostesses personally—”

Suddenly, the woman slapped him across the face, and then burst out laughing. She had become brighter in that moment, and it took him several seconds to understand why until he saw his sunglasses in her hand. 

“Oi! Give those back!” 

But she was already gone, laughing as she pushed her way through the crowd, calling out song requests and a host to serve her more liquor.

* * *

  
**8:14:32 PM**

Kondou kept running.

The women were gaining, even though he had lapped the ballroom twice already, dodging guests and knocking waiters over, throwing back apologies over his shoulders. 

No matter how many times he tried to reason with them, the fangirls and the couple of fanboys among them, would not listen to his explanations that he wasn’t really Kiryuu Kazuma, that he was simply dabbling in a bit of cosplay. He was flattered by their belief that he and Kiryuu were one and the same, but only one existed in the two-dimensional world whereas Kondou existed in the three-dimensional. These overzealous fans were blurring the lines of fantasy and reality together.

“Please!” Kondou called out to them again, “I’m Kondou, Chief of the Shinsengumi, and I order you to stop and believe that I’m not Kiryuu-san! I’m a real human, not a fictional character!”

But they would not listen, and now one of them had his sandal, waving it in the air like a battle prize.

Desperate for an exit, Kondou spotted a door at the top of the grand staircase, behind Oguri Shunnosuke and the reporters.

* * *

  
**8:15:20 PM**

While trying to secure a good spot behind the reporters to hear Oguri Shunnosuke talk about his life, Tae thought she heard Tsukuyo’s voice above the lively din of conversations and turned around to look. Tsukuyo was nowhere in sight, and neither was Kyuubei. Kondou was running around in the circles, trying to escape the horde of fangirls that had bowled Sasaki over completely.

Turning her attention back to Oguri, Tae was shocked to see Catherine burst into the scene in a tight mini dress.

“Shunnosuke-sama, we are reunited at last!” Catherine said, grinning and throwing her arms around Oguri’s neck. “Let’s party! Let’s dance! Let’s get married!” 

Oguri stared at her, jaw dropping. “I beg your pardon, but—”

“Security!” yelled the assistant at his side, “Where is Security? Remove this stalker from Oguri-san’s presence at once!”

Just then, Kondou yelled, “Look out! Make way for Security!” He tore across the carpet and heading straight for them, followed closely by his band of unwanted admirers. 

Unwilling to get caught in the crossfire, Tae picked her way through the reporters, bypassed Catherine and Oguri, stepped over a bunch of grapes someone had dropped on the stairs, and made her way upward. Perhaps the balconies would offer a better vantage point from which to locate Tsukuyo and Kyuubei. 

* * *

  
**8:15:25 PM**

_Mayora-sama is definitely here_ , Kuriko thought. She had spotted him wearing a Shinsengumi uniform instead of his royal mayonnaise bottle outfit and he had been walking around, barking into a handheld radio about someone named Katsura or whatever. The clincher was also spotting him take out a bottle of mayonnaise from inside his coat and attempt to drink from it behind a porcelain statue. She had never seen a man look sexier. Unfortunately, he had stuffed the mayonnaise back inside his coat without tasting it, and then ran off, shouting a name she couldn’t clearly hear.

Sighing heavily, she stood on her tiptoes, straining her neck for any sign of that handsome alien prince in the crowd.

“Who are you looking for, Kuriko-san?”

Kuriko turned around at the voice of Okita Sougo, captain of the Shinsengumi first unit, standing in the buffet line behind her. “Okita-san! What are you, like, doing here?”

“Guarding your old man, of course,” Okita replied, piling his plate high with fried fish. “Someone has to do their job around here since the rest aren’t.”

“Daddy? But he’s over there.” Kuriko pointed to Matsudaira waving his gun around at the foot of the stairs at some long-haired waiter who was clearly ignoring him by looking everywhere else _but_ at her father. “A tall lady, like, bumped into him and spilled all her wine on him and, like, totally stole his sunglasses!”

“Oh.” Okita shrugged one shoulder, appearing unconcerned about the theft and her father’s actual whereabouts. “Well, then, I’m just guarding _you_.” He speared a fish and crunched off a bite. “So, who are you looking for?”

“A handsome prince,” she said, cheeks tinging pink.

“You mean Prince Hata? He’s the only royalty here. By the way, when was the last time you had your eyes checked?” 

“No, not him!” Kuriko said, horrified at the thought. Then, she sighed, gazing upward at the twinkling chandeliers, wishing she could be dancing with her prince underneath them. “I’m looking for…Prince Mayora-sama.”

“Mayora-sama?”

“Yes, he’s the Prince of Mayo Planet.”

“I’ve never heard of that planet.”

“It’s, like, totally far away, really far, like so not in our galaxy.”

“That remote, huh.”

Kuriko blinked. “What does a TV remote have to do with it? Anyway, it’s a planet made of mayonnaise and it’s too dangerous for me to live on. Mayora-sama said so! That’s why he had to leave. He told me he would, like, never forget me and I’ve never forgotten him! But I’m sure I’ve seen him here! I saw him drinking mayonnaise! It’s got to be him, _like totally!”_

“Interesting…I think I know who you’re looking for.”

Kuriko’s heart leaped for joy. “You know him?”

Okita tilted his head, chewing. “I saw him heading for the stairs a few minutes ago. Shall I take you to him? And Pops, too. I bet he’d like to meet his future son-in-law.”

* * *

  
**8:15:34 PM**

“Gin-saaaan! Gin-san, my love, where are you?! Are you playing hard to get again? Oooh, you know that game gets me going, yes, oh, yes!! You know just how to treat a woman!” She stopped to sigh, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “Oh, but, Gin-san! I was hoping we’d have a dance or two first before we go straight to the good stuff!” Sarutobi cupped her hands around her mouth, not caring if she disturbed more guests around her. “GIN-SAAAAAN!!!”

“Sacchan-dono?”

Sarutobi turned to see Kyuubei approaching from the side with a puzzled frown. “What are you doing here? You aren’t the type to attend parties like this.” She narrowed her eyes. “As I recall, you didn’t even invite me to _your_ birthday party. I had no idea you were capable of such rudeness."

Kyuubei answered, “For your information, I had no idea Toujou was throwing me a birthday party, so you can assassinate him later on that. As for this party, I was personally invited. What are you doing here? Is this what you meant when you told Tae-chan you were going to see us ‘indirectly?’”

“I was… _commissioned._ ” She had forgotten all about her original job, but Kuriko and Gintoki were both challenging to follow tonight. And it shouldn’t have been a challenge for kunoichi of her prowess, but they kept going in different directions and now she had lost them both despite her attempts at keeping them together within her sight. “Commissioned as an extra party guest in case people didn’t show up.”

Instead of questioning the bogus explanation, Kyuubei nodded seriously, looking around. “Yes, I can understand that. Toujou did that for my birthday party. Someone must have done the same for Oguri-dono, whom I remember as being more low-key.”

“Right, well, here I am! By the way, have you seen Gin-san? I just saw him and now he’s gone again! Ah, my aloof lover…” Her face grew warm again, as she thought about how thrilling Gintoki’s cold behaviour was to her. 

Kyuubei gave her a deadpan look, but replied, “Tae-chan said the Yorozuya are delivering most of the desserts tonight. I haven’t seen them yet, though. Have you seen Tae-chan and Tsukuyo-dono?”

“Then he must be over by the desserts!” Sarutobi adjusted her glasses with a grin. “Hope he has room for the sweetest, most satisfying dessert ever to touch his lips yet! Ahh!!” She hurried off, but then stopped and quickly said, “I don't know where Tsukki is, but you’ll find that delinquent woman with those dogs in uniform. They must be arresting her for breaking out of the zoo!”

* * *

  
**8:15:57 PM**

Hijikata watched as Kondou climbed the stairs, trailed by a mass of obsessed fans, calling out “Kiryuu Kazuma!” as they followed Kondou close on his heels. 

“What the hell is going on? Why isn’t that damn brat watching Kondou-san?” Hijikata demanded, expecting a subordinate or at least Yamazaki to answer, but only received murmurs of disapproval for his outburst from nearby guests.

“Toushi, please help meeee!!” Kondou cried, “Toushi! Sougo! Anybody, help!!”

Tetsunosuke, looking a bit battered and unkempt with footprints all over his uniform, jogged up to Hijikata. Breathless, Tetsunosuke explained the situation, which consisted of a misunderstanding between Kondou and the fans over his slight resemblance to a video game character. 

“Damn it! I’ve got to save Kondou-san from those lunatics!” Hijikata broke into a run, calling over his shoulder, “Back me up, Tetsu!”

“Right behind you, Vice-Chief!”

* * *

  
**8:16:04 PM**

Katsura scanned the group of guests pointing at the buffet tables and the five grand cakes on display with Shinpachi, Kagura, and Hasegawa standing around them - or rather Shinpachi and Hasegawa were standing, and Kagura was elbow deep in a cake. Katsura wondered where Gintoki had gone to, and hoped they didn’t run into each other. Now was not the time for explanations and reminiscing on the past.

Of all the people Katsura had factored into his calculating, he hadn’t expected more familiar faces to show up at this party and disrupt carefully laid plans. Sarutobi was _still_ nowhere to be seen. Okita was leading Kuriko toward the center of the chaos by the grand staircase. And the Amanto employee at Snack Otose had popped out of the artificial cake instead of Elizabeth, who was still not responding by radio.

“Toushi, help meeeeee!!”

Katsura narrowed his eyes and followed the sound of the plea up to the top of the stairwell where Kondou could be seen gripping the bannister against crowding fans. Katsura had also not expected this turn of events.

Now Matsudaira was missing, and Katsura wanted to go look for him except that he had been suddenly accosted by this man, who looked exactly like Matsudaira except that he had no tinted glasses. He was currently ranting with a hand-shaped mark on the side of his face and a dried line of blood down the center of his face.

“First she spills her damn wine on me and then slaps me in the face! All I did was ask for her name—”

Katsura didn’t have the time to pretend to be concerned about an old womanizer when he needed to track down Elizabeth and their Joui comrades among the guests and staff. As long as he captured Kondou, the Shinsengumi would be helpless without their leader. They would worry about Matsudaira later.

“And then she had the _nerve_ to steal my sunglasses, and I'm not recognizable without my sunglasses—oi, you dumbass waiter, are you listening to me—”

“It’s not dumbass waiter, it’s Katsura!” Dodging guests and offering pardons for bumping into them, Katsura raced up toward the stairs.

* * *

  
**8:16:13 PM**

Kagura was devouring the first cake like she would never eat again. It was a horrendous sight, like watching a shark swim through a school of fish and snapping at and swallowing helpless prey. Or an alien – which she was – stomping through cream cheese towers and marble layers of buildings and eating up the proof that the cakes had been delivered safely. 

“Oi, you gluttonous brat!!” Hasegawa yelled, pacing around her, trying to find a way into the massacre to rescue at least one cake. “Stop it! I told you guys we can’t have any cake! We can’t stick so much as a finger in the icing, either— _yeow!!_ ” He pulled his hand away in time when Kagura snapped at it, preventing him from saving the top layer. “She tried to bite me! She really tried to _bite_ me!”

“It’s no use!” Shinpachi shook his head wildly, dazed by the feeding frenzy. “Once she starts eating, she won’t stop! We need Gin-san or somebody strong enough to pull her back!”

 _Gintoki or somebody strong enough_. Hasegawa looked around for anyone among the guests who might be able to help. He spotted Yagyuu Kyuubei hurrying past them. Kyuubei was strong. He had seen them throw their retainer and Gintoki once across the length of a room with ease. Perhaps they could help.

“Wait here!” Hasegawa told Shinpachi and then dashed through the people, catching up to Kyuubei. “Oi, wait! Wait up!”

Kyuubei kept walking, apparently not hearing him.

Hasegawa sprinted towards them and touched their shoulder. “Hey! Can you help us—”

* * *

  
**8:16:29 PM**

Gintoki sighed and snatched up an appetizer from a passing tray.

First, he had to deliver cakes he couldn’t eat to a party he was never invited to that was being held in honour of a second-rate lookalike.

Then he had to endure the sight of Catherine in a tight mini dress, fawning over Oguri, and no amount of bleach would wash away that grotesque image from his brain.

On top of all that, he could have sworn he saw Katsura walking around in a waiter’s uniform and ordering people around. Gintoki swallowed the rest of his tidbit and shook his head. He would bet all his pachinko winnings that Katsura was behind the zaniness of the evening. 

Speaking of strange sights, there was the moon of Yoshiwara standing by a fountain of wine glasses, her back to him. Her black kimono was adorned with pale pink cherry blossoms and the kunai that normally pinned her bangs was replaced with a simple but elegant floral pin. It seemed Tsukuyo had dressed herself up a bit for this occasion and, apparently, she knew Oguri Shunnosuke well enough to be present at his party.

“Well, well, the moon has indeed risen tonight,” Gintoki remarked, stepping within earshot of her vicinity. “What brings you way out here aboveground?”

Tsukuyo spun around with a flushed face and crazy grin, holding a wine glass and a pair of sunglasses.

Gintoki froze. “Oh, damn…”

“Gintoki!” Tsukuyo all but yelled, “I was expecting to run into you at some point! Look at you, dressed all fancy and celebrity-like!”

A shiver of fear ran down his spine and he chuckled nervously. “Well, I _am_ the only one who can make an apron look this good.” 

Tsukuyo held up the sunglasses in one hand. “Look! They’re also giving out free sunglasses! What for, I don’t know. They must be showing a 3D movie later or something.”

“Uh, yeah, they’re showing the _Gintama_ film in 3D starring me—I mean, Oguri-kun. By the way, how many drinks have you had tonight? Please tell me just one and that you poured it into another glass…”

Tsukuyo hiccupped with a deep frown, blinking. “I don’t know…I was looking for Otae and Kyuubei, and these waiters kept walking by and offering me a drink… I didn’t want to feel bad for refusing so I kept taking one.” She hiccupped again and giggled.

The blood drained from his face. Who knew how many waiters had passed her by tonight? “I think you better stop. Seriously, for the sake of everyone, please stop before you become the drunken terminator again because I don’t think Sarah Connor’s here at this party.” 

Tsukuyo’s eyes narrowed. “What did you call me?”

Gintoki slowly backed away, grinning. “But hey, you know what? I think I saw KimuTaku somewhere back there! I’m going to go say hi, he’s an old friend of mine and—”

Tsukuyo lifted him off the floor, snarling, “My name isn’t Sarah! I already told you it’s not nice to call people by the wrong names!!”

“ _That’s_ what you’re offended by?? And what do you mean you already told me? This is the first time we’ve met tonight— _aahhhh!!_ ”

* * *

**8:16:32 PM**

Oguri Shunnosuke hurried up the stairs and tried not to trip over his feet in his desperation to get away from the cat-eared woman struggling through the reporters in an attempt to reach him, a feral grin on her face.

“Shunnosuke-sama, wait for me!!”

He looked back, fearing she was close behind him, and doing so caused him to slip on a bunch of grapes carelessly left on the step. 

Determined not to fall and tumble down the stairs back to that frightening woman, Shunnosuke reached for the ankle of the person in front of him. “Pardon me—”

* * *

**8:16:39 PM**

Someone bumped into her legs and struggled for purchase on her ankle. “Pardon me,” they said, but she didn’t give them the chance to finish.

“Don’t touch me!!” Tae yelled, her fist connecting with the nose of Oguri Shunnosuke, sending him tumbling down the stairs, body flopping to a stop at the first step. Raising fingertips to her lips, she grimaced. “Oh, dear…” Now the party guests weren’t going to consider sending their children to her dojo after witnessing one of the instructors punching the guest of honour.

Hijikata, several steps below her for some reason, was leaning against the railing like he had done so to avoid a mid-air collision. He scowled at her. “What the hell are you doing? Do you know who you just punched??”

Like she needed an unwelcome reminder from a perpetually grumpy cop. Frowning at him, Tae demanded, “And why are you following me? Are you stalking me in place of Kondou-san?”

“Hell no! I’m trying to get to him! He's up there somewhere!”

Tae turned away from him. “Well, just go and—” 

With dizzying speed, an orange-haired figure dropped down from above in front of her and launched himself off the steps, surging ahead to the top.

Gasping, Tae stepped back by pure instinct and her foot met nothing but air. Watching the man hop over the scattered guests on the stairwell, Tae reached for him, as if he might turn back and realize what he had done, and then rescue her, so she could throttle him in return for causing her impending injuries. But he didn’t. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, Tae braced for impact on the stairs.

To her surprise, Hijikata caught her in his arms. Her body slammed into his chest and squished something hidden inside his coat; something that sounded like plastic bending inward.

“Shimaru!” Hijikata said, voice by her ear, “Where has he been all this time? I’ve been trying to get in contact with him!”

“My, my, this is an incriminating situation, isn’t it, Hijikata-san? I can't believe your secret is better and more humiliating than I expected it to be.” Suddenly there beside them and holding a plate of food, Okita picked up a piece of tempura with chopsticks and bit off a mouthful. “I would hate for Pops to get the wrong idea – speaking of which, he’s coming up here right now and he doesn’t look too happy.” Okita stopped and nodded once. “Ah, you made it, Kuriko-san. I told you your prince was here.”

“You little—” 

Tae pulled away from him and onto the first step, and turned around to see mayonnaise splattered across his jacket. Straining to look down the back of her kimono, she saw the same mess soiling the lavender and peony print. “Oh, dear…”

A girl behind him cried, “Mayora-samaaa!!”

* * *

**8:17:07 PM**

Ankles clinging to the outer crystal rim of the chandelier, Hasegawa raised – or rather lowered – a fist at the one who had flung him up here in the first place. “I only touched your shoulder! You didn’t have to do this!!”

His sunglasses loosened themselves from his ears and plummeted to the mass of moving heads, all searching for an exit or some logical reason to explain the abrupt turn of events at a party Hasegawa expected to make bank on from delivering the cakes. 

“And I knew you Yorozuya were going to cost me another job! This is a disaster! I’ll never get hired again! Someone put me out of my miserable, pitiful existence! _Please, I beg you!!!”_

* * *

**8:17:21 PM**

Kondou reached the top of the stairs and took a sharp right turn, but before he could go any further, the fastest shrieking fangirl caught the hem of his haori and pulled _hard_.

“Kiryuu-sama!! Please go out with me!”

“I’m sorry, my heart belongs to someone else!” Kondou answered her, grabbing the bannister in time and clinging to it with all his strength.

“Sign my bra, please!!” cried another. They all clustered around him, pulling at his arms and and screeching in his ears about the latest release of the popular yakuza game. 

“No, no, wait! I’m not the real Kiryuu Kazuma!! He only _looks_ like me! I only styled my hair this way to attract Otae-san—ahhhh, help me, Toushi, help _meeeee!!!_ ”

* * *

**8:17:46 PM**

"Pedoro’s Pizza Pies!” Zenzou called out, balancing two stacks of five boxes in both hands, “Who ordered the pizza?” Dressed in one of Pedoro’s white uniforms that he’d forgotten to take off in favour of his blue shinobi outfit, this was only the third job of the night and he was already too lazy to make the deliveries—had arrived late as it were. Carrying ten pizzas and keeping them safe while jumping from building to building was not an easy job. On top of that, he had an inflamed posterior to rectify as soon as possible.

“Pedoro’s Pizza Pies! Hurry up and pay for them before they get cold! I’ve also got the Catbus keychain!” He paused and muttered under his breath, “Hurry up, damn it. What a pain this is...” He had to get back to the parlour to pick up more deliveries, but he intended to stop at the drugstore first if there was enough time. The longer this party took to claim the pizzas, the less time he had to buy medication. He clenched his buttocks and hissed, in dire need of serious relief and _fast_.

* * *

**8:17:52 PM**

Tsukuyo gazed at the man in front of her by seven feet.

Gintoki’s uniform had been white and there it was in her wine-distorted vision, moving all over the place, shouting indistinctly. Hadn’t she punched him already for his rudeness? She couldn’t remember. If so, he was quick to recover. And where had he gotten the pizza boxes? Well, it didn’t matter.

“Back for more, eh?” Tsukuyo reached into her sleeves and retrieved two kunai.

* * *

**8:18:09 PM**

“T-Tama-chan! I didn’t know you were going to be here!” Yamazaki stuttered, blushing and awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He was supposed to be searching for Katsura, but then he’d caught sight of _her_ lingering by the table laden with gifts. “D-Did you come with a date or…?”

Tama stared somewhere above his hairline. “Pizza, double mushrooms and peppers with extra cheese, incoming,” she said, taking a step backward. 

Why was she moving away? Did his breath or body smell? Robots couldn’t detect odours, could they? Self-conscious, Yamazaki hesitantly asked, “You like pizza, do you? S-So do I, sometimes…”

* * *

**8:18:16 PM**

“I was chasing one fugitive and found a second one. So, you think you can steal my little girl’s heart and then trample all over it, bastard?!” Matsudaira bellowed, smelling of alcohol and missing his glasses. “Think you can flirt with another woman with my Kuriko-chan in the same room??”

Hijikata shook his head wildly, body straining from keeping one foot on the step below and the other on the step above while holding Tae upright in his arms. The momentum from Tae’s sudden trip into him had nearly knocked both of them over, but he had managed to save them both from a treacherous journey down eighteen more steps. He couldn’t afford more lost time when Kondou needed him. “It’s not what it looks like! _She_ fell into _me!_ And why do I have to explain myself when I was never dating your daughter in the first place?!” 

“Oh, my, this is terrible,” Tae said, freeing herself from Hijikata’s arms after regaining her balance and moving to the next step above, inspecting her kimono in the process.

“Mayora-samaaaa!!” Kuriko wailed, giving him another pitiful look before burying her snot-running face into her hands.

Hijikata winced. “I’m not Mayora-sama!! He’s on Planet Mayo! I’m just his…twin brother! I’m his twin brother named Mustard!”

Okita crunched off a piece of tempura, standing on the steps above with a plate of assorted food. “I heard him say he was planning to dump Kuriko-san tonight at the party.” He bit off another mouthful. “By the way, he was the one who wrote ‘pervert’ on your jacket last week. After you kill him, will I be promoted to Vice-Chief?”

Seething, Hijikata snapped, “That was you, you bastard!! And I’m going to _kill you_ , you murderous runt!!” 

Tae yanked on Hijikata’s cravat, bringing him up to her eye level. “Hijikata-san, remember when I told you it would be terrible for my kimono and terrible for _you_ if something happened to it?” she said, and raised her free mayonnaise-covered fist. “Well, get ready to say good night. And I'll send you the bill for my cleaning costs tomorrow morning. Oh, but please know that I’m still deeply grateful to you for saving me from a bad fall!”

Hijikata gulped at the sight of her deceptively sweet smile, remembering the bottle of mayonnaise inside his jacket and how he had forgotten to twist the cap all the way around. “Shit…”

Tetsunosuke clung to Tae’s raised arm, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried desperately to hold back her vengeance. “No, no, Otae-san! Vice-Chief didn’t mean it! Punch me instead!” 

“Punch them both,” Okita said to Tae with a dark grin, “It’s more fun that way.”

Matsudaira cocked the gun. “I’ll give you on the count of three to apologize to Kuriko-chan and then disembowel yourself immediately after.”

Heart pounding in his ears, Hijikata glanced back and forth at Tae’s fist and Matsudaira’s gun, unable to decide on the lesser evil. “O-Oi, wait—!”

“One…”

“I said, _WAIT, DAMN IT!!_ ”

* * *

**8:18:22 PM**

Yamazaki was sure that someone at the next table had pointed at those flying saucers of melted cheese and tomato sauce and sardines and peppers, warning him of their imminent landing. He had heard a deep voice rolling in slow motion, like a movie; incomprehensible words, but spoken all the same.

“I prefer plain cheese myself,” Yamazaki said, licking his lips clean of tomato sauce and squinting against the pepper crescent slipping into his right eye and cursing his eternal bad luck.

* * *

  
**8:18:31 PM**

Kyuubei stood still, breathing hard, glaring at the chandelier above them until they became aware of the whirring and clicking of a dozen cameras. Lifting an arm against the flashing, Kyuubei’s eyes zeroed in on the blond man kneeling down in front of the reports, pointing a video camera at them. Kyuubei scowled. “Toujou, what are you doing?”

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m not part of this detestable group of fame-seeking, celebrity-devouring stalkers!” Toujou insisted, voice on the edge of hysterics, “I’m only filming you for scenes to add to what is sure to be an award-winning documentary on the Yagyuu clan!!”

Kyuubei ignored him and glanced around the pandemonium, seeking two faces. “Where’s Tae-chan? Tsukuyo-dono?”

* * *

**8:18:43 PM**

“That’s right!” Catherine grinned cheekily at the cameras while cradling the unconscious body of Oguri Shunnosuke in her arms. “We’re getting married next week and I’m pregnant with his child!! Put me on the front page!”

“To _you?_ ” One of the reporters’ faces twisted in disgust. “You look like a blind date gone horribly, horribly wrong!”

“What did you say, you bastard?!” Catherine dropped Shunnosuke to the floor with a thump and stood up. “I’ll have you know cat girls are back in style! See? Nyan, nyan!” She held up a hand curled into a cat’s paw. “Shunnosuke-sama loves cats and he told me I’m his dream woman, nyan!!”

“More like a nightmare woman! You make Freddy Krueger look beautiful!” 

“Come and say that to my face, bastard-nyan!!”

* * *

**8:19:07 PM**

Yamazaki convulsed and groaned. He covered his mouth and his butt, too – he didn’t know which way it was all going to escape. “What the hell is in those pizzas?” he cried.

Tama pointed eastward. “Hotel blueprints indicate that washrooms are out that door and down the hall on your left, first door on your right. However, recent reports indicate a sudden problem with the indoor plumbing—”

“ _I’m_ going to have a problem with _my_ indoor plumbing if I don’t go!” 

* * *

**8:19:13 PM**

Gintoki stuffed a chunk of vanilla cake with a blue rosette into his mouth and closed his eyes in bliss. “This is even better than I imagined,” he breathed through bulging cheeks. "If I die here and now, tell them I went out doing what I love. Tell them Gin-san _lived._ "

“Gin-saaaan!! We’re not supposed to eat any of our deliveries!!” Shinpachi cried, clutching his hair, “If they find out, they’re not going to pay Hasegawa-san, and he won't pay us! And I’m pretty sure they’re going to find out when news of this disastrous party gets out! We’re not even invited guests here!”

“Well, _I_ should have rated a personal invite,” Gintoki insisted between mouthfuls, “Didn’t this guy play me in a movie? They should be holding this party for me instead!”

“This is a birthday party and it’s _not_ your birthday! How many times do we have to go over this?”

“It _could_ be my birthday! I’m an orphan! I don’t know my own birthday! For all I know, I could be nineteen or thirty-six-years-old! Or seventy-one. I have white hair, after all. Maybe I just look really young for my age.”

“You just had your birthday! You were born in October! You told us so yourself!” 

“Don’t listen to him, Gin-chan!!” Kagura burst out, spraying crumbs everywhere as she shoved a bigger piece of cake into her mouth, stomach protruding from her feast. “This is your big day, yes?! We’re celebrating the news of another anime film! You should eat and celebrate all you want, okay?!” 

“Damn straight!” Gintoki reached for another delicious slab off his aproned chest. “This cake is damaged, anyway. I might as well eat it since the guests won’t. There’s nothing more shameful than wasting food.”

“It’s damaged because you got yourself thrown into it, you idiot!!” Shinpachi snapped.

“Don’t forget to eat this cake, too, Gin-saaaan!!!” Sa-chan screamed from the next table over. She was sitting in the cake itself, making a mess of it by strategically placing pieces of lemon layers and red rosettes all across her body. “Eat to your heart’s content— _mmph!!_ ” Mouth cut off by an accurately aimed chunk of cake from a scowling Gintoki, Sa-chan chomped through it quickly and grinned. “Yes, that’s it!! Be cruel! Be cruel to me all you want! Overstuff me with your cake, Gin-saaaaaan!!!” 

“This is insane!!” Shinpachi glanced around the commotion of the ballroom and spotted Sadaharu at the top of the stairs, biting the head of someone being held at sword point by Saitou Shimaru. The bleeding victim had long black hair and a familiar face. Pointing toward the scene, Shinpachi asked, “Hey, isn’t that—?”

* * *

**8:19:33 PM**

“I think you were right, Elizabeth.”

Neck tensing at the sharpness of Saitou Shimaru’s blade pressed against him, Katsura surveyed the pandemonium and weighed his options for escape, trying to see through the blood flowing past his eyes from Sadaharu gnawing on his head. If it hadn’t been for Sadaharu’s sudden and surprising arrival, Katsura would’ve engaged Saitou in battle. But it was not to be.

The party guest of honour, Oguri Shunnosuke, lay unconscious at the foot of the red carpeted-stairs with Catherine posing next to him, making a victory sign at the flashing paparazzi cameras. At her feet lay another unconscious man, a reporter judging by the smashed camera hanging around his neck.

Hasegawa Taizou hung by his ankles from the grandest chandelier in the centre of the hotel ballroom, erratically waving clenched fists and yelling at the crowds below.

A seething Yagyuu Kyuubei stood below the chandelier while Toujou Ayumu, faithful clan retainer, pointed a camera at them.

Tama, the robot waitress from the bar below the Yorozuya’s headquarters, was calmly cleaning the remains of a dozen pizzas off Yamazaki Sagaru, who was clutching his stomach with a stricken expression.

Hattori Zenzou, famed shinobi and pizza deliveryman, was face down in the pile of pizza and pizza boxes with several kunai sticking out of his butt. Standing over him was the drunken Hyakka leader, Tsukuyo, cackling and hiccupping and drinking from two wine glasses.

Kondou Isao was sobbing and clinging to the upper stairwell railing while hordes of screaming fangirls and fanboys pulled and shrieked at him with one even attempting to lasso him. 

Hijikata Toushirou was balancing himself on the stairs with Shimura Tae holding him up by the cravat of his uniform. He was arguing with Matsudaira Katakuriko, who was pointing at gun at him while holding a sobbing Kuriko. A smiling Tae was in the middle of raising her fist at Hijikata while Sasaki Tetsunosuke tried to stop her. Okita Sougo stood next to them on the stairs, munching on tempura and egging Matsudaira and Tae on.

Gintoki and Kagura were at the tables of destroyed cakes and other desserts, gorging themselves in a frenzied blissful ignorance of the chaos while Shinpachi yelled at them. The deserter, Sarutobi Ayame, lay in the middle of one of the smashed cakes, smearing herself with icing and strawberries while screeching at Gintoki.

All of his disguised comrades hiding out among the guests and staff had made their way to the staircase, waiting, questioning him with their eyes, unsure of what to do next. 

Prior to all this, Saitou had appeared out of nowhere – probably had been hiding in the ceiling – to arrest him. The orange-haired Shinsengumi captain held up a notebook: _You brought this on yourself-Z._

As far as Katsura could tell, there was no way out of this situation except to get arrested and make his escape outside where he couldn’t harm Kuriko and other civilian guests he hadn’t expected to be here. Fighting Saitou would be difficult with a giant dog making a chew toy out of his head, preventing him from unsheathing his own hidden sword. Besides, if he stayed any longer, the Yorozuya would suspect he was the one who caused all this chaos, and then they would be after his head, too. Shinpachi was already staring and pointing at him, mouth moving wordlessly.

Wearing the remains of a cake, Elizabeth held up a sign: _I warned you._

Wondering where it all could have gone so terribly and ridiculously wrong, Katsura sighed and held up his wrist, choosing to surrender for now until he could think of another escape plan. “Take me away, Officer.”

* * *

**10:02:05 PM**

“So, I heard your old comrade crashed a big celebrity party down on Earth and got himself thrown in jail,” Kamui remarked, sitting atop the table in the meeting hall of the Kiheitai flagship, currently drifting in space alongside a Harusame vessel. 

Sitting on the window ledge overlooking the vast surface of Earth spread below them, Takasugi brought his pipe to his lips, drawing in a breath and exhaling wisps of smoke before answering, “Where did you hear that?” 

“It’s all over the Internet now.” Kamui turned around a minicomputer, where the screen held an image of Katsura Kotarou and his Amanto accomplice under arrest by the Shinsengumi. “‘Extremist, Katsura Kotarou, Infiltrates Party of Popular Actor, Oguri Shunnosuke,’” Kamui said, quoting the headline.

Takasugi did his best to appear uninterested, but also found himself mildly curious over what stupidity Katsura had gotten himself into this time and why he had let himself be so easily arrested by buffoons. “Why should I care what he does? It’s no concern of mine.”

“Don’t try so hard, Shinsuke,” Kamui replied, grinning cheekily, “I know you’re dying to know the full story. I won’t kill you yet until you’ve had a chance to read all about it. Some of you Earthlings can be surprisingly funny in spite of your weakness.”

Takasugi closed his eye with an amused smile, the darkness of his eyelid giving way to a vision of someday punching Kamui’s smug look off of his face. “Zura always did have a penchant for eccentricity.”

“I wish I could've gone to a party for a few drinks,” Abuto said, entering the meeting hall, “Instead I’m stuck in cold space, babysitting this shitty brat.”

“Thanks for giving us a hand with this final cameo scene, Abuto,” Kamui said, flashing him another grin.

“That’s not funny,” Abuto said, looking as unimpressed as ever, as he cradled his new robotic arm. 

* * *

**11:45:09 PM**

Katsura shifted around to his side on the tatami mat, the barest of offerings within the dark, dank prison cell, and yawned, and closed his eyes. Sleep would come easy tonight after the last several hours. 

_These timestamps were ultimately useless_ , Elizabeth signed from the cell across the way, _I think the writer was too lazy to take them out five chapters later after the original purpose behind them was transferred to another story._

Katsura opened his eyes. "Whatever are you referring to, Elizabeth? Oh, never mind. Let us rest now."

The Jouishishi disguised as guests and staff had their orders to disperse and escape if the night took a turn for the worst. Survival was key, and they knew Katsura and Elizabeth would eventually break free of prison and lead them once again. Katsura was proud of his men, the lot of them knowing exactly what to do once Saitou placed him in handcuffs. Elizabeth had also allowed herself to be arrested, but not before holding up a sign that said: _I warned you, but I’ll follow you to the end._

The memory of it brought a smile to Katsura’s face. There were none more loyal than Elizabeth. His smile grew wider when he also remembered how Saitou, in a rare display of leniency, had allowed Katsura, at his request, to fluff Sadaharu’s soft fur first before leaving the ballroom. The bite wounds left in his head had been bandaged, but they didn’t bother Katsura at all, for he understood that Sadaharu was just a massive puppy who liked to play a little roughly.

 _The beast is more than a puppy_ , said Elizabeth’s sign, _He’s a merchandise spotlight-stealing mascot._

“Jealousy is unbecoming of you, Elizabeth.”

The two of them were in a Shinsengumi holding cell, due to be transferred to a bigger prison when the orders came down from the top. An investigation had to be done, and the Shinsengumi were probably full of questions concerning the whereabouts of his comrades and if they had anything to do with the flooded bathrooms, the contaminated pizzas, and the general chaos of the evening. There was plenty of time to plot out his escape, and he might as well enjoy three square meals a day and the opportunity to relax without checking over his shoulder every time he went outside his apartment. And even then, he never sat with his back to the window. 

Yes, he would sleep well tonight. There was nothing surprising about these prison cells, nothing to fear from the Shinsengumi or any other police force since Katsura was familiar with all their tactics, and well stocked with war experience to boot. Nothing would faze him or keep him from pursuing his lifelong goal of dismantling the current government and bringing about a new future for the nation.

Slowly but surely, the threads of another plan intertwined together in his mind. They’d stay another night in this place, break out the following night, and then lay low for another month or so, tying up the loose ends of this plan and ensuring that nothing – and _nobody_ – would interfere this time around. That was the single most important lesson of the night: always have a second back-up plan in case the first back-up plan for the main plan failed. Calculate carefully and improvise when necessary. Survive at all costs and live to destroy the government another day.

Smiling, Katsura whispered, “Elizabeth, I have another brilliant idea.” 


End file.
